#like. it’s not up to you to finish the job but neither are you free to withdraw from it. you get what I mean? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

i2sunric · 3 months ago

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𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘 (s.jy)

PAIRING: horny!jake x succubus!reader (f)

SUMMARY: jake has always been an hyper sexual type boy, always seeking relief in the depth of night. but his hand isn't as satisfying anymore and neither are his toys, and in his moment of desperation, you appear like a gift sent from heaven (or hell).

WARNINGS: kinktober. succubus (a sexual demon), masturbating, pillow humping, riding, overstimulation, messy blow job, jake is kinda sub, doggy, missionary, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), cream pie, dirty talking, manhandling, (idk if there’s a slight cnc?), slight choke kink, jake whines and whimpers (we like), cum eating, oral (m receiving), pussy licking, pet names (jakey, baby), lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 20th October 2024

WC: 2.9k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove (oneshot) @leov3rse @eileenville @roastandtoast @heeaxvhhoon @doublebunv @ancnymcnzjy @heartynoo @rii7eis7 @lyxnneee @yunahszx

a/n: i literally have 8 drafts for kinktober but i’m not sure i’ll be able to finish them all (sorry). i don’t even really like how this one came out but i thought i owned y’all some new fics since i’ve been ia for a while. please REBLOG to spread bcs only likes don’t take authors so far. thank you 🩷

Jake was resting on his bed, or so he tried to. His back was against the mattress, the only light illuminating the room was the one of the moon, entering from the window as if to peek to his desperation.

Fact was, he had been a painful hard on the whole day and fate wanted that he couldn’t seem to make himself come.

It was true when they said that as you overdo something, you grow tired of it, because his hand had stopped working a couple of weeks before, which led him to the sex shop downtown to purchase a couple of toys.

And they worked, for the following couple of days until the empty feeling after jerking off hadn’t come back.

“Ugh…” He muttered to himself, he was desperate at this point.

His entire body felt hot with arousal, the air around him getting stuffy. It was a wonder how his hand hadn’t fallen off from all the wanking he had done in the past week.

Jake was left with a raging bulge making fun of him through the fabric of his sweats, his cock so hard it was even painful to exist.

He grabbed his phone from off to the side, opening up the internet in hopes of finding something to satisfy his needs. He began scrolling on a pornography site, a small sigh escaping from his mouth as he quickly found something he liked.

It was a rather soft porn, just a ‘morning sex’ one, he skipped all the intro until it got to the good part.

Jake slowly pulled down his sweats, just enough to free his cock from the restraints of the clothing.

He hadn’t even worn his boxers to bed, feeling suffocated.

He raised the volume of the video, holding his phone with one hand while he started to touch himself with the other.

He was sensitive, slowly pumping his shaft up and down. As the moans of the video got louder and the boy fucked the girl harder into the mattress, he too tried to fast his pace— and nothing.

Jake continued his search, even going to the hidden pictures of his galleries where he kept screenshots of his favourite porns of all times.

Nothing seemed to work on him, nothing brought him enough pleasure to get him off.

Jake groaned loudly and threw his phone on the mattress, far away from him.

He stared at his cock as if it had personally offended him, it stood proud and angry red in front of him.

Suddenly, an idea flashed in his mind.

If hand didn’t work, and neither did the kinky toys he got, he’d have to try the traditional way of fucking a pillow.

He grabbed the pillow from behind his head and turned around, his chest now pressed onto the mattress.

Jake rested his head on the other, smaller pillow while he raised his backside, enough to make a makeshift hole of the pillow.

He inserted his aching cock and thrusted his hips, slowly. The fabric of the pillow touching his length made him moan softly. He tried to imagine someone being under him, someone letting him rut his cock inside of them.

Just as he focused on the small pleasure he got, a giggle made his eyes widen in surprise.

Peeking from behind his shoulder, he noticed a red figure.

“What—“ Jake turned around, covering his dignity with the pillow (as if he wasn’t just grinding on it). There was no way someone had entered his bedroom, or his house in general. He remembered he had locked all the doors before going to bed, so how did you get inside?

You stood in front of the bed, looking at him with a wide smile on your face. Your skin was reddish, and you had small horns on your head, as well as a tail moving left and right, as if you were amused by the scene you had just witnessed.

“Hey,” You purred, waving your hand at him “Having fun there?”

“Who are you?” He asked, moving into a sitting position “Or… what are you?”

Your body was barely covered by a brown top and a pair shorts of the same colour, making your curves and body perfectly visible.

Lord, if you weren’t such an arousing sight. Had he been in the right mind, and not clouded by lust, he would’ve realised you were a succubus.

A demon that got its power from having sex with desperate men in the middle of the night, taking strength by their semen. Your body was meant to make him horny.

“Don’t worry about it...” You raised a brow, as if to ask, him for his name.

Jake understood and cleared his throat “Jake.”

You smiled happily “Jake, what a pretty name for a pretty boy!” You exclaimed.

“I am Y/N.” You introduced yourself, placing a hand on your chest, clearly making his attention go to your tits.

He nodded in reply, his eyes ranking over your figure warily “So.. what are you?”

You just rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t matter, I’m here to help you.” You bit your bottom lip “Don’t hide from me.”

Jake glanced down at where the pillow was hiding his lower body and let out a shaky breath.

He debated whether to listen to you or try and get some more answers out of you— but you were so willingly giving your help to him, he couldn’t just refuse you. Not after he had waited for this moment so long.

Cautiously, he removed the pillow, showing his cock that sprang free.

Your eyes widened and your mouth watered. “Aren’t you huge?” You complimented, loving the way it throbbed at your comment.

Just the sight of your perfect body made some precum leak from the tip, and you knew he must’ve been so pent up he was suffering.

“You don’t have a pussy to bury your pretty cock in?” You purred, slowly crawling on the bed.

“N-no.” Jake replied.

“It’s okay,” You stated, slowly pumping his shaft “You can use mine.”

Just your mere touch made his mind grow foggy, your pretty palm wrapped around his length.

He moaned softly as you spat on it, using your saliva to lubricate the skin.

Jake’s eyes fluttered shut, it just felt so good to finally be touched by something that wasn’t his own hand, and he whimpered when your mouth wrapped around him.

It was so warm and it felt so good, the way you slowly moved up and down, bobbing your head to pleasure him.

Without even him realising, his hand had moved to your hair, grasping your locks as he thrusted upwards.

In a way, you liked how desperate he was. Your power was lowering the past few days and he was just what you needed— a horny college student in desperate need of filling some nice pussy.

Oh, if only he knew your true intentions.

His hips began to move as he held you still, fucking your mouth like you were a flesh light. Though you felt even better.

You gagged around his length and the sound only fuelled his contorted desires. “Mh— fuck.” He moaned, his hips snapping back and forth “So good,” Jake breathed out “So fucking good.”

You decided to hollow your cheeks and let him use you, one of your hands moving inside your panties to lazily circle your clit. You were already dripping wet, while he was leaking precum inside your mouth, filling your taste buds with a bittersweet taste.

“I’m so close, M’gonna— Oh!” He groaned loudly as he shot his thick load down your throat, his cock pulsating inside your mouth as he pushed your head down further. You palmed his balls, just adding to the overwhelming pleasure he felt.

You could almost feel him whole down your throat, you frowned as you tried your best not to gag around it.

After a couple of seconds, he let you go, his breath heavy as he tried to regain strength.

You pulled away and licked your lips, loving the sweet taste of his cum.

And as you looked down, you noticed he was already hard. You widened your eyes, a smirk forming on your lips.

But Jake wasn’t as lust-high as he had been when you found him humping his night pillow, and he sat up properly.

With one swift movement he grabbed your throat, making sure not to squeeze it too tight and he pressed his plump lips on yours.

As surprised as you were, you quickly recovered and reciprocated the kiss, teeth crashing and tongues swiping one on the other.

His free hand snuck between your thighs, feeling your wetness, making him swallow your moan.

“So wet for me, mh?” Jake murmured on your lips, helping you out of your tight shorts “Let me give you back your favours.”

You felt his finger press against your entrance but you stopped him. You certainly didn’t need any prepping, the only thing you needed was him shooting his cum deep inside of you.

But that, he didn’t need to know, so you just whined “Need you inside of me Jakey, please.”

“Yeah?” He retrieved his hand, manhandling you into the mattress. He crashed your head on the pillow - yes, the one he was fucking just a few minutes before - and held your ass up.

It was cute how he thought he was in charge, but you didn’t mind being dominated, so you let him be.

He opened your asscheeks with his slender fingers and licked a long stripe out of your folds, making you moan.

“Hurry,” You pressed your backside further into his face, making Jake slap your asscheek.

Had your skin not been already red, his slap would’ve left an angry mark. But you liked it, so you pressed your ass against him again.

Jake groaned, slapping the same asscheek that left a burning sensation cursing through your body.

He moved up, quickly discarding his shirt and sweatpants, throwing them somewhere on the floor. “Want a condom?” You almost laughed at his question, reaching a hand to pull him close, you hissed “Give it to me raw.”

He felt himself grow even harder at your dirty talk, he pumped his shaft and pressed it against your clit, gathering all your sweet juices.

You hummed softly at the teasing, needing him to be inside of you, that thick cock to press against your cervix and making you see the heaven you weren’t allowed in.

With one quick thrust, Jake slammed all of himself inside of you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

It was true that you didn’t need any prepping, having done this for a living - literally - but you felt him whole, “S’deep.” You sighed.

Jake moaned at how your walls hugged him, squeezing any drop of precum, swallowing his full length.

He pulled out just to slam back inside, gripping your asscheeks. “Fuck,” He breathed out, his pace already quickening as he tried to chase both of your highs.

“You like it deep, baby?” He asked, “You like it feeling me so deep inside of ya?”

You nodded, reaching your hand behind to touch him, but Jake got ahold of your wrists and held both of them behind your back.

The position would’ve been uncomfortable if you weren’t so aroused, it’d been a while since you were fucked hard and Jake seemed like the best victim you had in ages.

“Pussy so good,” He grunted, eyes squeezing as he felt himself near the edge “So fucking perfect, baby.”

You tried to peek at him from behind your shoulder, and Jake noticed. He gave you a sly wink and let go of your wrists, pulling out of you to turn you around.

Your back was now on the mattress, the human spread your legs wide as he aligned with your entrance once again.

He positioned your legs on his shoulders and quickly got inside again, as if he were addicted to being in you, his balls slapped against your ass.

“Better, ain’t it?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him down to you to kiss his lips “I get to see your pretty face as I fill you up with my cum.” The angle you were bent was awkward but you didn’t really care.

The thought made you clench around him and Jake groaned in your mouth, his cock rutting fast and deep.

The squelching sound of skin slapping filled the room, for once Jake was glad of owning a house and not an apartment, or the neighbours would’ve had already come to complain.

He held your throat with his veiny hands, adding just the right amount of pressure to make you light-headed.

“Jakey,” You breathed out, mouth agape “Want your cum, give it to me.”

Your words only fuelled his desire, he sped his movements - if it was even possible - his face contorted in pleasure as he felt his orgasm approach.

“Yes, yes, M’gonna give it to you, baby,” He chanted out, his cock throbbing “Fuck— I’m gonna fill you up so good.”

He rested his forehead against your shoulder and squeezed your clothed breast, kneading at the soft flesh.

His movements became sloppy until with one last, deep thrust he came deep inside of you.

“Yes!” You breathed out, as his cum flooded inside of you, you could feel yourself growing stronger, your powers returning.

Jake’s movements grew slower until they stopped, his laboured breath tickled your skin.

He was tired, strangely so, he pulled out of you and laid beside you “Shit, this was the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

His eyes closed as exhaustion washed over him, but you weren’t done.

Oh, you were far from done.

First, you hadn’t come yet and second, you needed more of his semen.

You climbed on top of him, smiling at his fucked up state. He looked so pretty with messy hair, swollen lips and red cheeks.

Jake slowly opened his eyes, widening them a little as he took you in “Y/N? What are you— Fuck.”

He groaned loudly as you fisted his softened cock, wanting him to get hard again so you could ride him.

“S-stop.” He gripped your hand but you were stronger than him now, shoving it away “Shh, I’ll make you feel good, pinky promise.”

You chuckled within yourself, slowly grinding your wet pussy on his hardening length.

Jake sighed, his hands lazily holding your hips “You need to cum, baby?”

You hummed, your fingers grazing his happy trail “Mh… yes, will you make me?”

Jake nodded, his eyes half lidded “I can use my tongue, no need to…” He grunted as you lifted yourself and held his dick up, slowly lowering on him.

As you bottomed out, you moaned, the shadow of his bulge peeking through your stomach.

You threw your head back, his cock sliding in and out easily thanks to your wetness and his previous orgasm still lingering inside of you.

“M-too sensitive baby, please…” You chuckled, “You can take another one.”

His brows furrowed as you alternated between moving up and down and grinding him, his nails digging in the skin of your hips.

“So? Can you take another one, mh?” Jake sighed, nodding his head weakly “Y-yes.”

“Atta’ boy.” You exclaimed, rewarding him by riding him faster.

Jake felt all of your movements, the overwhelming sensation making his body rock with tremors “Can’t… can’t.”

“No, you can.” You grasped his shoulders and moved your hips almost frantically, your clit brushing against his skin.

His body tensed, his feet flexing and relaxing, “Fuck… I’m gonna cum again.”

You bit your bottom lip, feeling your climax reach as well “Mh… give it all to me, Jakey.”

His hands moved to your breasts as he squeezed them to the point of pain, you clenched around him and he snapped.

His cum shot inside of you, his cock throbbing painfully as he came for the third time of the night.

He whimpered when you didn’t stop, trying to move you away but you didn’t, you just kept moving until you saw white as well.

Your legs trembled as you reached your euphoria, while Jake’s body collapsed whole on the bed.

His eyes slowly closed, too tired to even stay awake. He slowly succumbed to sleeping.

You smiled victoriously, feeling your powers raise even more. Standing up, you let the remaining of his semen drop out of you and stretched.

Sighing contentedly, you reached for your discarded shorts and put them back on.

“I’m feeling so refreshed!” You smiled happily, but as you turned around you saw Jake’s slumped figure on the mattress.

Feeling pitiful, since he seemed so vulnerable, you covered his naked body with the blanket. Smiling at his face, you noticed he really was a pretty guy.

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek, moving some hair out of his sticky forehead.

“See you soon, Jakey.” You smirked and disappeared, with the intention of coming back to him whenever you felt weak. Which, maybe would’ve happened more often.

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 6 months ago

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Life's A Beach - K.MG

🌊Who: Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x female reader 🌊What: Smut, some fluff I guess? Strangers to lovers. Lifeguard Mingyu!!! 🌊Wordcount: 7.3k 🌊Warnings: Profanity. Quick joke about burying a body on the beach. Slight drowning, it’s not graphic and it’s very quick all in all. Passing mention of panic. Probably excessive use of “baby”. Semi-public sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, big dick Mingyu, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms(f), messy Mingyu, choking, a single solitary spank, mentions of bruising.

Summary: You don’t like the beach, but you do like the handsome lifeguard who works there. As it turns out, he likes you too and is more than willing to risk his job to have you.

Minors do NOT interact, which means reblogging and/or commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- Happy birthday to my beanie @ourdawnishotterthanourday , I know I said this was to prepare for a Christmas gift but I lied hehe oops. Hope you like it, my love 💗

Thank you @okiedokrie for the very last minute beta! 💕

A few weeks ago, your best friend managed to succeed in convincing you to go to the beach after some very effective emotional manipulation in the form of puppy eyes and pouting at you. She had promised you’d enjoy yourself and admittedly, you did, but not because of the beach itself. Still, she used your enjoyment to convince you to return a few days later, and then another few more and soon enough the two of you seem to spend more time at the beach than your homes in your free time.

Now, the reason for your interest in attending the sand and seas despite liking neither of those things is pretty simple. The eye candy. One particular hunk of a man with a sweet smile, in particular.

You have no idea what his name is, you’ve never spoken to him nor been in close proximity but that doesn’t deter you from setting up in that same spot under the parasol for a few hours every few days at roughly the same time just to watch Mr Hunky Lifeguard do his rounds strolling topless up and down the sand and helping where he can.

It’s sweet, the way he’ll help anyone who asks, even with matters you’re very certain are not a part of his job description. Judging impromptu sandcastle contests between kids. Blowing up beach balls. Helping older folk set up their beach chairs and parasols.

You can’t help but wonder if he’d help you apply sunscreen. His warm hands slipping over your thighs, working up and up and-

“Hey!” The voice of your best friend breaks you from your fantasies as she skips over happily, hands cupped and before she’s even close enough, you already know what’s in her hands. “Check this out!” She drops onto her knees at your side to proudly show you…a little crab. So not another shell to add to the pile gathering on the sand to your right as you assumed.

“A crab,”

“Yes,”

“I thought you were looking for shells to decorate your castle with?” You both look over at the half-finished and admittedly, rather grand, sandcastle a little to the side, safely out of the way from any passerby.

“Every castle needs a King, don’t you think he’ll look crabulous on his throne?” You look back at your best friend to find her grinning at you, proud of her joke.

“Go find shells.” You deadpan, she just giggles and gets up to return to the rockpool where she had found the crab to return it to its home.

Thoroughly distracted from your fantasies of the hot lifeguard, you have honestly forgotten about it and also happened to have lost track of him. Last you saw him, he was up on the deck of the watch tower, peering over the beach through binoculars yet now, he’s nowhere to be seen.

With a disappointed sigh, you decide to just relax, leaning back against the bags you’ve piled up to create an impromptu backrest and go back to reading your book.

It’s not even ten minutes later when a figure blocks your light and casts a shadow over your pages. You immediately assume it’s your friend from the way the figure lingers and lift your head with every intention of accepting whatever funky patterned rock or shell she’s found this time, yet it’s not her who you spot, but Mr Hunky Lifeguard himself.

“Hi,” he greets, hands on his hips and smiling at you in that bright friendly way you’ve noticed him smiling at everyone else.

You take the moment with him so close to quickly rake your hidden gaze over his exposed, sunkissed, toned torso and arms. Praise be to whoever invented dark sunglasses. “Hello.”

“Family day out?” He questions, motioning to the pile of plastic beach toys by the sandcastle on your right, causing you to look over and only then realise how it must look; that you’re here with your child, not your grown ass adult of a best friend.

“Not exactly,” You huff a laugh and lean aside a little to peer around him. “My best friend.” You declare upon spotting said person and pointing to her. To your surprise, she’s squatting with another lifeguard, this one wearing the same red shorts though he’s got a white sleeveless t-shirt on, and rummaging through the sand with your friend.

“Oh,” The man in front of you lets out a surprised little laugh when he looks over too. “I’ve never seen Vernon interact like that with a stranger. Unless they know each other?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” You shrug and look back up at the tall man in time to see his body angle back around to give you his full attention. You briefly wonder who exactly is looking over this section of the beach when both lifeguards are currently distracted on the sand.

“Huh, okay. I’m Mingyu,” He takes a step closer to lean over and offers his hand to you. Your gaze catches on the chain around his neck and the way it swings as he leans over. You want to reach out and grab it, yank him down and defile the beach together.

But that would get you arrested and you really don’t want that. So you lean up onto your knees to accept his hand to shake and tell him your name in return.

“Mm, pretty,” He hums, looking at you over the top of his dark sunglasses with a lopsided little smile. It feels flirty as fuck, but you don’t want to make assumptions that this beautiful man is interested in you.

“Oh, thank you.” You smile a little and take your hand back yet remain on your knees, feet tucked comfortably under you as he straightens up. You can’t help but think about the fact that if he was a few feet closer, you’d be face height with his dick and within reaching distance.

“You must really like the beach.”

“Huh?” You blink away the fantasy of slobbering all over Mingyu’s cock and seeing how pretty he looks when he cums down your throat, or maybe on your face, that’d be nice too.

“I said you must really like the beach, I’ve seen you here almost every day for almost a month now.”

“You noticed me?” You mutter in shock.

“Uhm-” Mingyu rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, his confident stance melting away as his shoulders curve in and make him appear smaller. Embarrassed. Cute. “I-It’s my job. To notice things. People. You know. To ma-make sure people are safe.”

“I see.” You hum and tilt your head a little without even noticing, amused and endeared by him.

As if he isn’t already attractive enough just by existing, talking to him and realising he’s got this cute shy side definitely draws you in further.

“Y-yep!” He laughs awkwardly and straightens to his full height again while putting his hands on his hips again. “Well, I should get back to it. Nice to meet you!” And then he rushes off before you can even respond, leaving you watching him scuttle off and almost trip over a stray sandal in the sand making you snicker.

Mingyu flails to right himself and then immediately looks over at you to see if you noticed. Realising that you had definitely seen him almost faceplant the sand, he gives an awkward embarrassed little wave before turning and rushing off, quickly putting his face in his palms as he goes.

And just like that, the beach gets that much more interesting.

It’s a handful of days before you return to the beach, you had been busy with work, unfortunately, so you simply hadn’t had the time or energy to take the trip.

“I’m gonna dig a giant fucking hole today.” Your best friend declares as you both put down your items in your usual spot and start to set up.

“To bury me? Work killed me, babe.” You retort dramatically.

“Please don’t bury bodies on the beach.” The voice makes you jump over and to your surprise, a dripping wet Mingyu is standing a little behind you. “Hi,”

“Hi,” You reply dumbly, doing your utmost to not oogle his shimmering chest, or the flex of his bicep as he lifts a hand to run his fingers through his wet hair to stop the salty water dripping over his face. You’re once again very glad for tinted sunglasses.

“You’re wet,” Your best friend comments, making you both look at her where she’s standing and looking between you both over the top of her sunglasses, where you’re very certain she’s lowered them down her nose just to give you both this very pointed look.

“I was teaching a kid to swim, of course I’m wet.” Mingyu chuckles, motioning over his shoulder with his thumb in the direction of the sea behind him.

“Wasn’t talking to you.” Your best friend gives you a final look before pushing her sunglasses back up into place. “I’ll leave you to set up, I have places to be.” With that, she turns and walks off in the direction of the snack carts and shacks further down the beach leaving you and Mingyu alone.

You appreciate that, the alone time with the attractive man, but what you don’t appreciate is having to set up on your own. “She could’ve at least opened the parasol first.” You mutter to yourself, looking at the giant umbrella in disdain.

“I can help!” Mingyu offers, bounding forward before you can even answer, to pick up the umbrella from the sand, biceps flexing as he moves. “Where do you want it?”

“Right here,” You reply without thought. He hums in understanding, even if he doesn’t truly understand because you were definitely thinking about where you want him to rail you when you answered, not where you want the parasol set up.

Still, Mingyu sets the parasol up and it is in the right place so you find no reason to correct yourself and instead thank him and get to work setting up the mat.

To your pleased surprise, Mingyu sticks around to help you finish setting up everything, making friendly conversation as he goes and smiling brighter every time he makes you laugh.

You wish he would keep you company for longer but his walkie-talkie crackles to life and announces that he’s needed so he leaves you with a smile and waves at you when he looks over his shoulder after jogging a little away.

It makes you feel all warm inside, how he seems to be genuinely interested in being near you, you just hope it doesn’t take another three weeks before he decides to make a move if he plans to. You’re not confident enough yourself to make that move, you’d be utterly mortified if you’ve read this all wrong and he’s just being a genuinely nice guy who goes above and beyond for his job.

So you just settle down with a new book and hold that hope next to that sun shining in your chest.

“This is perhaps the dumbest idea we’ve had and gone through with.” Your best friend comments as the two of you stand ankle-deep in the sea with the rented surfboards ready for your lesson with one of the two men who run the surf supply shack.

“You signed us up,” You point out, both of you watching the man in question as he removes his t-shirt on the shore to toss at his co-worker who rolls his eyes.

You know the co-worker personally but more because he somehow knows your best friend. His name is Joshua and he, according to your bestie, had purposely set up this lesson with his co-worker, Seungcheol, because Joshua owes her for something or other. Honestly, you long ago stopped trying to keep track of the shenanigans of your bestie. Wisely too.

“Sorry about that, Shua had to tell me something.” Seungcheol apologises as he walks over to join you two, sans surfboard of his own, confusing you but you don’t point it out.

“Sounds ominous.” You declare.

“No,” He chuckles and motions to your best friend who points at herself with wide eyes, sunglasses propped on Joshua’s head so they don’t get lost to sea, while yours are with your belongings. “Shua said you have really bad balance so I should probably hold onto you.”

“Terrible balance.” Your best friend agrees seriously without missing a beat, even if you know she’s lying at least a little.

It takes everything in you to not burst into laughter. Clearly, Joshua is very aware that your bestie has been thirsting over his co-worker since she first saw him. Admittedly, you have been too but most of your attention has been on The Hunky Lifeguard now officially known as Mingyu.

“Okay, so is it okay if I hold onto you to help?” Seungcheol checks, expression giving away that he truly has no idea that this is some kind of a set-up and is genuinely just concerned for his student’s safety.

“Full consent to touch me however you want.” Your best friend agrees, making Seungcheol smile, entirely missing the depravity hiding in her words.

You have to look away to take a few breaths to calm yourself before you break, and happen to notice Mingyu up on the watchtower deck, looking through his binoculars. You can’t be certain but it looks like he’s got them pointed in your direction. You don’t want to be delusional so convince yourself that even if he is, he’s not focused on you specifically.

Spoiler, he definitely is.

“Alright,” Seungcheol claps his hands together, making you jump a little and turn back to him and catch his adorable gummy smile. “Let’s get this lesson started, shall we ladies?”

Honestly, the lesson with Seungcheol goes a lot better than expected, he takes it very seriously and pays careful attention to you both. You hadn’t expected to get anywhere close to standing on the board in the water but with his careful guidance even with his hands hovering around your friend to aid her oh so terrible balance if need be, you get your feet under you.

After a few more tries, you manage to get almost entirely upright while Seungcheol and your friend cheer you on supportively.

And then you make a giant fucking mistake.

Before you’re even upright, you lift your head just enough to peer around naturally and notice Mingyu in all his topless, red short glory jogging along the beach looking like everything out of a Baywatch themed porno with his pecs bouncing with fucking every step. And as if that’s not bad enough, the man clearly is packing something very special in his shorts because you notice that bouncing too.

Next thing you know, you’re toppling into the water so suddenly that you inhale in shock a second before you hit the sea’s surface, allowing salty water to pour into your open mouth and trickle into your lungs.

It’s barely a second that you’re under the water before a strong arm is around your waist and heaving you up into the air while you sputter, panic starting to seize your body.

“Move!” You hear as you’re laid down on the sand by the strong arms, though the voice is coming from elsewhere.

“I can handle this, Gyu,” This voice is right over you, the owner of the arms and you vaguely register it as Seungcheol, but you’re too busy coughing up seawater to open your eyes or give him or the other any attention.

“I’ve got it, Cheol.” Mingyu assures.

There’s a heavy sigh and then those strong hands leave your body and you feel Seungcheol back away while other hands touch you gently, helping to remain on your side.

“That’s it, you’re okay, I’ve got you.” Mingyu’s voice is soft and soothing where he’s hovering over you in concern, one hand rubbing over your arm and the other pushing your hair back.

Luckily, the whole ordeal only lasts a handful of minutes and then you’re okay, breath stuttered and throat a little sore but fine otherwise.

When you roll onto your back and open your eyes, you find Mingyu right there, leaning over you and backlit by the sun he’s purposely blocking from shining right in your eyes. Like your own personal guardian angel. Or something more poetic.

You can be given a break from being unable to wax poetry about this beautiful specimen of humanity before you, considering what you’re going through. And no, not the just inhaling seawater thing.

But the whole, he’s leaning over you topless with that damn silver chain dangling inches from your face, thing. Just a little closer and you could bite it.

You wonder if he’d find that weird. Probably. You still want to do it though.

“Hey,” He gives you a tender kind of smile when you lift your eyes from his chain to meet his relieved, soft gaze. “You okay?” You just nod, pretty sure you’d say something highly inappropriate if you open your mouth.

“I dunno, I think she might need you to watch over her, Mr Lifeguard.” Your best friend speaks up. You peer at her from the corner of your eyes and find her standing beside Seungcheol with a little smirk on her face as she looks between you and Mingyu. “Maybe you should take her up to the watchtower and keep a close eye on her, just in case.”

“She doesn’t need that,” Seungcheol points out simply, definitely unaware that your friend is trying to set up a situation for you and the man you’ve been thirsting over for weeks.

“No, no, she’s right.” Mingyu argues quickly as he shakes his head and turns to you to help you sit up and then get to your feet to stand with him. “I should definitely keep a close eye on her, she almost drowned, Cheol-”

“She’s fine,” Seungcheol’s mutter is neither heard nor considered as Mingyu continues to talk over him as if the man said nothing.

“So I’ll take her to the watch tower for a while until she’s feeling all better, sounds okay?” He looks at you. You just nod.

“Make her feel all better, Mr Lifeguard.” Your bestie encourages with a nod and thumbs up.

Mingyu returns it and you’re not certain he actually gets what your friend is insinuating but you don’t really care. Whether he understands or not, you’re getting alone time with Mingyu and that’s all that matters. Bless your bestie for always trying to get you laid.

As you walk up the stairs to the watchtower, Mingyu walks a few steps behind you, a hand on your lower back gently, the same place it has been since the two of you started to walk across the sand. It’s still there when he opens the door and you two enter the building.

“Hey,” Vernon, the lifeguard your bestie apparently befriended the other day, greets looking over from where he’s sitting at the control desk facing the large windows that oversee the beach. “Oh,” He mutters, eyes widening a little as he looks between you and Mingyu, clearly taking in the sight of the tall man’s hand on your back. “You know, I think I’m going to go get some air for a bit.”

“Okay,” Mingyu agrees, giving Vernon a grateful look as the shorter man vacates the building without even grabbing his walkie-talkie from the desk.

At Mingyu’s gentle nudge, you move further into the building allowing him to shut the door.

“I’ll grab you a towel.” He declares, moving over to the cupboards while you decide to check out the view from the window.

From here you can see the entire section of the beach, especially when you pick up the binoculars Vernon left on the desk and peer through them. It’s pretty interesting, being able to watch over everyone like that and see everything while they no doubt don’t even consider the eyes on them from above.

“Can they see us?” You wonder, lowering the binoculars to look at Mingyu as he approaches with a towel in hand.

“I mean sure, if they try hard enough at other times of day but the sun is in the right position to just reflect on the glass at the moment. So right now, no, nobody can see us.” He informs, stopping perhaps a little closer than necessary. Paired with the information that nobody would even see if he fucked you right against the window, well heat flares in your stomach.

“Have you tested that?”

“Mm, a few times.”

“How?”

Mingyu tilts his head a little at you and as you haven’t accepted the towel, too focused on the conversation, he puts it down on the desk and gently takes the binoculars from your hands to also put down. “What do you mean, how? By looking up from outside.”

“Right.” You hum and turn your head to look back out of the window.

“What were you expecting?” He chuckles lowly. You feel him move a little closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his bare chest. “Hm?” You shrug. “Tell me,”

“Just…you know.” You shrug again and although you can barely feel it through the wet material of the rash guard on your torso, the gentle press of his fingers on your back makes you shiver a little.

“You should get out of this and dry off.” He suggests while running his hand up the length of your back and around your neck to the zipper in the middle of your throat.

“I might need some help getting it off.” You reply. “Things being wet makes things harder.”

“Oh, I know.” You’re very certain that you’re both talking in double entendre now and look at him over your shoulder as you turn your back to him a little more to give him better access.

For a weighted moment, nothing happens, just heavy eye contact as if you’re both waiting for the other to take a step backwards and prove your suspicions of the rising tension between you to be false.

Yet you both stay in place.

You feel a slight tug against your neck, barely noticeable but it makes your body burn a little hotter as he slowly tugs down the zipper to your clavicle before stopping.

“Face me.” He mutters, adjusting his own stance to fully face you. You immediately comply and turn so you’re face to face, all without him removing his grip on the pull of your zipper.

Then he’s back to dragging the zip down, over your breasts where his knuckles brush a little making your breath catch before his hand moves on to finish the path to open the zip all the way to where it stops at your belly button.

Mingyu only then breaks eye contact to look down at the glimpse of skin he can see now with the zipper open. “This is a one piece?” He checks, noticing how the material of the rashguard vanishes into your shorts. You hum in confirmation and then he’s lowering to his knees in front of you to tuck his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

He glances up at you, checking that this is okay and when you nod, he gives you a little smile before turning his full attention back down to watch the shorts move down your thighs with the help of his hands.

“Can you-” He starts once you’ve stepped out of the shorts and he’s tossed them aside, but when he looks up at you, you’re already working on pulling the front of your rash guard open, revealing your chest little by little, covered only by the little bikini you bought specifically to wear with the rashguard. “That.” Mingyu swallows thickly, watching more skin get revealed until you start to struggle to get the wet material down your shoulders.

Without a word, Mingyu gets up onto his knees as tall as he can without getting up to reach out and grip the material to ease it over your shoulders and down your arms.

“You’re beautiful,” He murmurs, hands bunching the wet material by your hips as he stops to take in all the exposed skin only a few feet from his face.

“So’re you,” You reply shyly. He smiles up at you then leans forward to press a featherlight kiss to your stomach.

“This okay?” He asked in between kisses on your skin, each growing more daring than the last.

“Y-yeah,” You agree, feeling breathless already and nothing has happened yet. The tension is just so thick between you that it fills your lungs and takes up space usually reserved for oxygen.

For a moment, you worry that if you’re this breathless already with just a couple of kisses to your stomach, you will not survive actually being fucked by this beautiful man. But then his lips are suddenly on the crease of your thigh, right at the edge of the rash guard and moving inwards and you can no longer worry about the future state of your lungs.

Mingyu quickly tugs the rashguard off of you entirely and tosses it aside carelessly once you’ve stepped out of it, leaving you in just the skimpy little bikini that leaves very little to the imagination. “Fuck,” He breathes out, leaning back to take you in from head to toe then back again. “So fucking beautiful, baby.”

“Mingyu,” Your voice is a soft little plea as you reach towards him, for what exactly, you’re not sure, you just want something and hope he gets the hint. He does and tilts forward to lean his cheek against your palm for a second, then plants a kiss there, tender despite the heavy moment.

“Lean back, baby,” He encourages, leading you by your hips to turn and take a step back until the edge of the desk is digging into the meat of your ass.

You grip the desk edge on either side of you as he hitches one of your legs up onto his shoulder then leans as his free hand tugs aside the seat of your panties to allow him to get straight to work dragging his tongue up your pussy.

The noise Mingyu lets out overpowers your own, he sounds like he’s tasted the fucking nectar of the gods or something equally as divine. Hearing him so immediately into eating your pussy only makes you more aroused and attracted to him in general.

You have heard of men eating pussy like a man starved before but you had never experienced it until now. Mingyu truly gives it his all, holds you open and drags his tongue and lips over you with desperation and an intensity that has your legs shaking and a constant stream of moans spilling from your mouth almost in time with the grunts and needy moans vibrating through his lips against you.

“Gyu,” You breathe out, tangling the fingers of one hand in his hair and encouraging him to stay on your clit. He groans at the slight tug on his scalp and redoubles his efforts, sucking and licking at your clit hungrily.

Your eyes are closed, entirely absorbed in the toe-curling sensations this man is giving you in spades, but when his hand touches yours on his head, you open your eyes to peer at him curiously. He’s looking at you, eyes so blown with arousal that you’re very certain you leak over his chin even more.

Mingyu doesn’t stop suckling your clit between his lips in a steady pattern that has you so fucking close to a beautiful climax. It won’t be long until you fall over the edge into bliss.

He removes your hand from his head and directs it between your thighs to make you curl your fingers around the seat of your bikini bottoms to hold them aside and away from his face.

Then those same fingers that had just curled your own are prodding at your entrance. He hesitates though, staring up at you for permission until you rapidly nod and then he’s plunging two right into you, made easy from how fucking wet you are.

Just like that, an orgasm hits you so suddenly and powerfully that you don’t manage to do anything, no warning, no sound from your mouth as it rushes through your body, making your eyes roll back and back arch.

Mingyu feels you clamp down around his fingers and groans deeply as his own eyes threaten to roll back despite not being close to orgasm himself. Just knowing you’re cumming because of him, because of his mouth, on his fingers, it drives him insane and makes his cock throb.

Diligently, Mingyu works you through the pleasure pulsing through you, slowing down when your hips start to twitch and then reluctantly detaching his mouth from your clit when you nudge his head with a slightly shaky hand.

Though he doesn’t go far and instead pushes your thigh a little further open to give his head more space to get next to his hand between your thighs and noisily slurp up every single drop that spills from your pussy. He even goes as far as to lick up the line that dribbled down his hand to his wrist.

“Gyu,” The call of his name makes him lift his head to look at you with wide eyes, looking so innocent despite his mouth and chin being soaked in your juices, all the way down to his throat. The sight and reminder of how hard he just made you cum has you unintentionally squeezing around the fingers still buried to the knuckles within you.

He groans, tilting forward and opening his mouth ready to make you see stars all over again but you quickly put your hand to his head, palm to his forehead to hold him back. “Lemme eat your pussy, baby, prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Most delicious pussy ever. Could eat you forever. Let me. Please?” He’s got a slight slur to his words as he speaks, voice pitched higher than normal as he begs in a tone verging on a whine.

“D-don’t you want to fuck me?” You ask, words a slight pant still, too soon from the intense orgasm to have your breath back but you don’t care. He can steal all the breath from your lungs so long as he makes you cum like that.

“Fuck you?” He repeats dumbly. You nod and then it’s like a switch has been flipped. All of the innocent pussy-drunk expression and voice vanishes in an instant as his eyes turn heavy-lidded and his lips turn up into a smirk. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you, sweetheart?” His fingers in you start to move, making you jolt a little in surprise and reach down to try and remove them. “No no no, you gotta take my fingers first, baby. Need to show me you can take them before I give you my cock, okay? This is such a pretty pussy, I don’t want to ruin it by giving you my cock before you’re ready.”

You can’t really say anything in response, both from his words and the way he’s skillfully moving those two fingers in you, slow but pressing in all the right ways to stretch you out and drag all ability to form anything but pathetic moans from your parted lips.

“That’s it, good, just take it. You can take it for me, right, baby?” You nod quickly at his words. “Can you take another finger?” Another nod so he pulls his fingers out most of the way to work a third in beside them. “That’s my girl, fuck.” He breathes out, watching the way your pussy opens around his fingers as he carefully feeds the digits into you.

It doesn’t take much longer for Mingyu to pull his fingers out of you and get up to his feet. You barely have time to react before he has your hips in his hands and spins you to face the window. The sun is right in your face like this, lessened in power by the window yet still an annoyance so you lean over all the way down onto your elbows and rest your forehead on your forearms.

“Oh,” Mingyu breathes out, watching you bend over the desk and stops his task of shoving down his swimming shorts to free his leaking cock. “Fucking perfect.” He approves and gives you a quick spank to watch your asscheek wobble with the impact.

He hadn’t expected the moan that tumbles from your lips and pauses for a moment as he considers spanking you until your ass is raw and there are imprints of his hands left on your skin like a claim.

But then his cock twitches desperately and he gets back to work shoving his shorts down enough and taking his thick, heavy cock into his hand to run his hand up and down the length, spreading precum over his heated skin while his free hand tugs your bikini bottoms aside.

A breathless curse spills from his lips when he aligns his cock with your dripping hole, he wants to bury himself to the hilt in your warmth right away but he’s very aware that frankly put, he has a giant cock, so he needs to take it slow to not hurt you.

As soon as the head pops into you, you’re moaning and trying to push back for more. Mingyu has to take a firm hold of your ass cheek and push you forward against the edge of the desk to stop you moving too fast. If you keep it up, he will fuck into you without hesitation and he’s already trembling with the effort of holding back.

Little does he know, you want him to fucking ruin you. You want him to fuck you so hard and deep that you can’t take a step for the next few days without thinking of his cock splitting you open.

But you don’t have the brain power to make your tongue move to form that specific string of syllables so you’re forced to just remain pinned to the desk as he feeds you inch by thick inch of his cock at an almost agonisingly slow pace.

But the time his hips are pressed up against your ass, he’s shaking with his eyes squeezed tightly closed and both hands gripping your hips so tightly you just know there will be bruises in the shape of his fingers afterwards. Bruises you’ll wear proudly.

“Fuck, baby, this fucking pussy,” He groans as you pulsate around his throbbing length.

He needs a moment, needs more than one really, with how fucking close he is already to filling you with his cum but you press back against him as best as you can considering his grip. It’s barely any movement but he gets the hint, you really don’t want him to wait anymore and fuck, neither does he.

Mingyu slowly pulls his hips back, sliding half of his length out of you before sliding back in in the same slow, careful manner. He’s testing the waters, the give of your pussy and his own resolve, really. And all three give so fucking easily that the next time he pulls out, it's all the way until only his tip is tucked up safely inside of you before he thrusts forward harshly making you cry out and scramble to brace a palm against the window above your head blindly.

“That’s it, hold on, baby,” He encourages with a heavy exhale as he adjusts his footing and hold on you before he starts to fuck you like a man possessed.

It’s hard and fast and so fucking deep that he’s hitting places within you that you didn’t even fucking know exist before his cock found them. Or maybe they’re special places his cock is carving out and no one will ever be able to access them again. No one will make your mind blank and eyes roll back so far that all you see is the mental image of Mingyu’s giant cock wrecking your pussy in the best of ways.

You’re being loud, both of you, moaning and whining with every drag of his cock through your rapidly tightening walls. But neither of you cares, neither of you has the presence of mind to consider anything but the way it feels to fuck and be fucked like this.

At this point, you’re so close to another incredible orgasm that you wouldn’t even care if the door opened, you probably wouldn’t even notice and honestly, neither would Mingyu.

And when Mingyu tilts forward enough to wind a strong arm under your waist to press his palm against the flat of your chest to pull you up until your back is against his bare, sweat-dappled chest, you almost scream in pleasure at the new somehow deeper spot he’s grinding into.

There’s a little part of Mingyu that’s still aware that you’re in public and his place of work even if he’s not consciously aware of it, and that part of him is the reason his hand flies up from your chest to your throat and squeezes in the exact fucking way to cut off your airflow.

It’s the last nudge you need to hurtle into the single most mind-shattering, nirvana-inducing orgasm of your fucking life. At least so far because once you’re more coherent, you’ll definitely think about how much you want him to fuck you again in all sorts of ways.

A choked, cut off moan spills from Mingyu’s mouth as you clamp down around his cock so tightly as your pussy absolutely gushes around him that it sends him over too. His hand on your hip quickly moves, sliding around over your lower stomach to wrap his arm around your waist and hold you tight as he ruts into you and fills you with his cum.

It feels fucking endless, the length of your orgasm and how much it takes out of you even though it truly doesn’t last that long. It’s just an all-encompassing feeling that feels like utter bliss, a neverending pulse of pleasure, pure fucking serenity.

“You okay?” Mingyu manages to breathe out once his cock has stopped twitching as your throbbing walls milk him for every drop of cum in his body. His chest is heaving against your back, matching the deep rise and fall of your own chest, even if he had released the pressure on your throat as soon as his cock had started to empty in you.

You can’t respond yet, you’re not quite back on planet Earth making Mingyu chuckle a little, fond of you already, and cocky at his own abilities to fuck you so dumb like this.

Carefully, he draws his hips back to slide out of you with a wince and hears the splatter of cum hitting the wooden boards. But that’s a problem for after he’s looked after you.

Mingyu is so fucking gentle as he grabs the towel from the desk and uses it to clean between your thighs as best as he can without removing his arm from around you to keep you propped up.

Then he manoeuvres you onto the wooden chair on your right before getting to his knees to spread your legs wide once he’s between them with his knees pressed to the floorboards. For a few seconds, he just stares dumbly at the sight of his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy and he almost leans in to clean you up with his mouth but you’re already so out of it that he figures he better not. He’ll save that for next time.

Fuck, he really fucking hopes there’s a next time.

You come back to reality when Mingyu is doing his best to slide your shorts back up your legs.

“Hey, beautiful,” He greets you when he notices you moving slightly and looks up to see you blinking down at him. “How you feeling?”

“Like I had the life fucked out of me.” You reply, giving him a sated, borderline dopey smile that makes him laugh. You reach out to him and he happily leans up to let you run your hands over his shoulders and to his neck so that you can tug him in and kiss him.

He sighs in contentment as your lips move together slowly like you have all the time in the world. Like there’s nothing that either of you would rather be doing than this right here.

“Should’ve kissed you earlier,” He murmurs when you both naturally pull apart for air and he rests his forehead against yours. “Sorry, got carried away.”

“There’s no need to apologise, seriously, that was…” You trail off and just giggle instead, fingers playing with his hair near his nape.

“It was.” He agrees with a chuckle and leans back to look at you. “Could we maybe do that again?”

“Now?” You baulk.

“No, not now.” He giggles. “I really can’t do that again now, I think I’ll pass out if I try to do anything like that now.” He assures, squeezing your thighs a little where his hands lay. “But another day in the future, when we’ve both recovered.”

“That sounds much more reasonable to me.”

“Reasonable, huh?” He teases and nips at your cheek playfully making you giggle. “And what about a date? Does that sound reasonable to you?”

“No.” Mingyu’s face drops so fast as he looks at you. He looks pretty heartbroken, honestly. “I didn’t mean no as in no to the date!” You rush to assure, cupping his cheeks and brushing your thumbs soothingly over his skin.

He pouts and pushes into your hold. “Then what do you mean?”

“Just that it doesn’t sound reasonable but very nice and something I would definitely love to do.”

“Oh.” He turns into your palm to try and hide the cute happy little smile that lifts his mouth and exposes his teeth, but you feel it. He presses a kiss to your palm before facing you again, no longer hiding his smile. “Good, good, I’m glad you’d love to. I’d love to as well. Maybe after my shift ends we can get lunch? Well, we’d have to take Vernon too and I guess your friend but they can entertain each other at another table.”

You giggle and nod in agreement. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Taglist; @variety-is-the-joy-of-life

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hai7ani · 8 months ago

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familiar / haitani rindou

Haitani Rindou turns 32, gets married, and he silently wonders why people are so nice to him now.

the old retired ladies promoting milk powders and selling fresh fruits in the grocery store rushes up to him at any chance they get. one time when browsing for milk formulas one of them had tapped him on the shoulder, pointed at a brand she was not promoting for but thought was amazing when her own grandchild had tried it, and then placed a bunch of other stuff in his cart that she thinks his wife would need. an example would be containers of freshly cut mixed fruits that her colleague had just prepared. you remember him telling you that her tone was a lot more different than the average grocery store promoter trying to sell you a product ー it was almost as if she was talking to her own son.

when shopping for flowers just like he does every Sunday suddenly the part-timer who is usually silent, does her job and only responds to customers' needs had stepped up to him and pointed out a few selections that she believes are lovely for expecting parents. she was even smiling when doing so. and you remember he came home to you that day with two bouquets of fresh flowers ー chrysanthemum and baby's breath ー one in each hand.

today when taking you out for dinner in the local family-owned restaurant the daughter had served you a warm bowl of beef bone soup. neither of you had ordered it for yourselves, and you were about to tell her that, but her mother speaks before you can. "drink it, love. the soup is good for you." she yells a little from where she sits at the cashier with a grin. when Rindou stands to pay after finishing up her husband then refuses to take your bill for the night. "it's okay, son. dinner's on the house this time." he pats his shoulder and pushes you both out the door. "take care, you two. the next time you come i'll cook tofu for you, alright?" it was directed to you and you'd laughed, a little embarrassed but feeling warm and fuzzy nonetheless.

and now you are listening to your own husband ramble on and on about his new mysteries while he massages your feet on the couch.

"i seriously don't get it. i've been going to these places for years now and they were never this nice to us. i mean, they are nice, but never this nice, you know? it's the first time we've ever gotten a free meal from Kobayashi's."

we. us.

you brush his hair back, admiring the light wrinkles that have started to form on his skin. "that's exactly it, don't you think?" you bring it up and he hums in confusion.

"perhaps the reason why they've been so nice lately is exactly because you've been going to these places for years now. they know you."

"huh?"

"if you think about it, they've watched you go from an ordinary man to a husband, then a father. watched you bring a girl they've never seen before to these places more often and suddenly we go together all the time, you have a ring on your finger and i am pregnant. perhaps it is why. a sense of familiarity, maybe?"

Rindou looks at you as if you are love and warmth and everything pink and red and blue and purple and-

you are right, actually. you'd went from a girl he met at a bar to becoming the love of his life, the woman who is now carrying the love you both share. and the ladies at the grocery store, the Kobayashi's, the part timer who's been around even after graduating university years ago? they've all watched him grow.

when Rindou was 17 and had gotten ambushed by a rival gang alone, it was madam Kobayashi who'd ushered him into their store way past the last call and offered to cook him a nice meal, had her medical student son patch him up, her husband to chase away the remaining guys who were waiting for Rindou to come back out. her daughter had been about Rindou's age then, hiding behind the cashier and watching as he ate in silence with a cut to his lip, another on his eyebrow. (to this day still no one except for you, her, and him, knows that the reason he'd gotten ambushed that day was because he'd stood up for miss Kobayashi when she was getting bullied by one of the delinquents. she still thanks him for what he'd done whenever you both finish up your meal and get ready to leave.) Rindou was 17 when he'd first discovered what it was like to care for people; to be a human before anything else.

the two ladies from the grocery store wasn't yet retired and working this job back then. the promoter lady used to be the janitor who was working in the office building of his first job. she'd watched him gone through periods of unknowing, confusion, stress, to become a solid man of status today. the lady who is selling fruits used to work as a professional tutor and had been the one to tutor Rindou and his brother on Mathematics. although she is mute and can't respond in words when her students have confusing questions to ask, the brothers still thought of her as a good teacher because of the way she taught, which is why they'd stuck around and refused to switch teachers despite their parents' disapproval. because she is mute, she can only count on her colleague to dump containers of freshly cut fruits into his cart while motioning for her to tell him things that she actually wants to say to him whenever he visits the store.

the part timer at the florist is a lot younger than he is, but she have been working there for a very long time. watched him when he was still an inexperienced bachelor pacing around the store wondering which flower would be good on a first date to buying the same flowers every Sunday because you'd liked the lilies that she recommended.

it'd be heartwarming for anyone to see the boy you watch grow around love, into love, finding love, to marrying her and becoming a father.

"...yeah. maybe."

#writing #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers fluff

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holyhadesimweird · 2 months ago

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the butterfly effect

photo from rorokonaa on twitter

captain curly x reader

trigger warnings : mentions of attempted sa/abuse (not really specified) and jimmy

summary : a butterfly effect in which curly steps up the moment he can after finding out something happened to you, causing the events of the game to never happen.

note : i have not written fanfic in many years, i'm so sorry and this is warning my writing may be dogass still or even worse than it was before. anyways, enjoy!

the moment anya speaks your name when informing him something happened to one of the crew mates, he runs. his heart has never beat so fast in his life, curly thinks he may die if he doesn't reach you.

as he runs to the cockpit, curly's mind races to an image of what anya's face looked like when she told him something happened to you. that bruise on her face scared the shit out of him.

was jimmy a bad man this entire time? after knowing him for so many years curly wants to doubt it, but the image of anya and knowing you were in danger because of jimmy doesn't allow him to even doubt that jimmy is a horrible man.

as he runs, daisuke and sawnsea see him and decide to run after him. neither of them are fast enough to keep up with curly's desperate running and are left behind.

curly can hear jimmy yelling and your sobs as he approaches the cockpit, making him push forward and into the cockpit when the door opens.

"what did you do to her?!" curly yells as he pushes jimmy away from your curled up frame in the corner of the room.

"nothing at all captain, i came to check on her-" jimmy is cut off as curly's fist makes contact with his jaw.

"bull-fucking-shit you liar. anya came directly to me after you hit her and i could hear you yelling at her. if you move, i will kick your teeth in." curly threatened.

it was at this moment daisuke and swansea's footsteps could be heard approaching the cockpit. as they reached the doorway, anya' lighter footsteps could be heard as well.

"what in the fuck is happening?" swansea questions.

"swansea, pick him up and take him to the kitchen. do not let him out of your sight until i come see you. daisuke, stay with him and watch too." curly orders.

"but curly-" jimmy tries.

"no, we're gonna talk about what you did. there will be a punishment." curly states as swansea grabs jimmy, not saying a word as him and daisuke take him to the kitchen.

"thank you for helping. i- i- didn't know what else to do." anya says quietly, kneeling down beside you. your sobs have quieted down but it broke curly's heart seeing you like this.

"thank you so much curly, i owe you so much. he- he kept trying to do things to me but i kept fighting and he hit me again right before you came in. i think he-" you rambled.

"listen to me, you don't owe me anything. i'll kick his teeth in before he goes near you again. i'm so sorry he-." curly kneels. he takes your hand and anya quietly gets up to leave for you two to have a moment alone.

"i was so scared i was going to lose you. i'm so sorry this happened and i wish i could go back in time to protect you. i'm here now and i won't let anything else happen to you. you're the most important thing to me and i can't bear losing you." curly rushes and stands up. "i'm going to make things right."

anya is stood outside of the room and makes her way inside to stay with you as curly marches towards the kitchen.

once he arrives in the kitchen he can see that swansea and daisuke have tied up jimmy who is yelling and trashing against the ropes. making his way to where they all are, curly decided on what to do.

"shut up and listen to me jimmy. you do not deserve to be free after this. you will be locked, barricaded, i don't care, in your room until this job is finished. it does not matter that pony express is kicking the can, because you'll be rotting right along with them in prison when we get back on earth. i'll make sure of it." curly spits out to jimmy.

"you don't deserve to be captain, i was going to be the hero in this story and you ruined it! i had a plan!" jimmy exclaims. "i was going to-" jimmy was cut off as swansea stands up from where he was sitting.

"you're insane. daisuke, come help me." swansea says eerily calmly.

when curly finally finds you after locking jimmy up in his room and leaving daisuke and swansea to guard. you're in your quarters, on your bed sleeping with anya sitting next to you, clearly on edge as she jumps when curly enters your room.

"thank you anya, for everything." curly says, offering her a smile and a hug.

"she's my friend and you both mean the world to me. when i realized i wouldn't be able to fight him off and help her, i knew i had to get help. i wish i could've done more." she says.

"you did your best and did the right thing. without you, who knows what could've happened. i'm just extremely sorry i didn't believe you at first when you tried warning me about him." he thanks and apologizes.

"i'll leave you two alone. goodnight captain."

curly takes a seat where anya was sitting and takes your hand.

.:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:..:.:.:.

"curly? curly!"

curly swears he hears someone call his name and blinks awake. the sight in front of him is other worldly and he wants to bask in it forever. you look beautiful despite everything that happened recently and he's happy to see you smiling at him.

"hey big man. thank you for protecting me, i don't know how to thank you. anya told me what you did with..... him. thank you." you thank him.

"it's the least i could do. you're important to me and i would do anything for you." he says sincerely. "...listen, i don't want to ruin this, but i have to go check on something in the cockpit. i'll be right back."

"of course, i can join you for the walk. but i might have to stay behind a little bit." you say.

"that is perfectly fine. we can go at your pace. i have to keep an eye on the controls for the next day, autopilot detected a possibility of needing course correction. let's go make sure we don't crash."

grabbing your hand, you and curly slowly but surely make your way to the cockpit to contact the company and to correct the autopilot route.

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it takes time, but by the end of the tulpar's journey, you are able to navigate the entirety of the ship without being scared.

you and curly become closer and he attempts to have a romantic dinner with you to ask you to be his significant other, but it doesn't go according to plan. however, you two love joking and talking about how the night you became an official couple.

having jimmy on the ship is hard for the entire crew for the rest of the journey, but when landing on earth and seeing law enforcement ready to take jimmy away, it feels like a weight has been lifted from the entire crew.

#thanks for reading!#i haven't done this in a while #mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #captain curly x reader #curly x reader #mouthwashing fic

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fraugwinska · 5 months ago

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Whoop - There it is! :> Glad to be back, folks! It's been too long, but I finished this behemoth of a Oneshot (7.1 k words FTW!) and I can't wait to see what you're thinking! Riding Alastor? ✅ Rut/Heat? ✅ NSFW? ✅ (Sorry minors!)

Thank you to @macabr3-barbi3 and also @ritualofcirice for encouraging me throughout the writing process - I'd still be rewriting and overthinking if it wasn't for you! <3 ILY

“Alastor, again?! Seriously, this has to stop. Look at the poor girl.”

“Oh Charlotte, don’t make an elephant out of a house fly – she knows it’s all in good fun, don’t you darling? No hard feelings, hm?”

You forced yourself to smile, although it must’ve looked strained, as you were still trying to get your tail to depuff.

“He’s right – no harm done, Charlie. It’s fine.”

Of course, it was anything but fine. Your whole system was still dialed in on the danger you had felt yourself in not two minutes ago. You should’ve been used to it by now. But you weren’t, and your feverish, nervous state you had been in lately didn’t help either.

Alastor had found sick pleasure in tormenting you since the moment you stepped foot in this cursed hotel.

You came after speaking to Cherri one night in the shady bar you worked at the time, not really believing that you could actually be redeemed but what she promised you’d find there: That the people there were weird but actually bearable to be around and lodging was free. The prospect of quitting your job, freeing yourself from that lewd, ambiguous boss of yours that also happened to be your landlord with a tendency to let his eyes linger too long on all the wrong places was too tempting to pass. Cherri’s latter statement was right, the room you were provided was almost as big as your flat, and the princess refused any compensation… even the meals were free. And for the first five minutes you thought her first one was, too. Charlotte Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer himself, welcomed you with open arms, and the other residents were a quirky, eccentric but still mostly friendly and fun bunch. But then it had begun – small at first, bolder by every passing day.

Alastor’s insistent, relentless, illogical bullying.

You knew about the radio demon, of course. You were neither naïve nor stupid - despite some acquaintances of yours would beg to differ - having heard and read too much about him not to be respectful yet distanced. Wary, but polite.

You were both woodland creatures, although he, despite being a deer demon, normally a prey animal, in a hilarious twist turned out far more powerful, dangerous and predatory than you. A fox demon, slender, clever and with an air of elegance and mystery around you – well, at least on the outside. The only thing you shared with your animalistic form was that you had a quick-witted, although very scattered, mind. You were a klutz, often speaking before thinking, getting yourself into trouble more often than being able to think or talk your way out of it. But you had been careful to tame that loose tongue of yours around him, not wanting to get on his bad side. And you weren’t, not in that literal sense.

You had barely introduced yourself, your new room key in hand and following the deer that enthusiastically offered to guide you to the right floor “as a good host would”, when you felt your foot being grabbed and twisted mid-step, making you tumble down a full flight of stairs. The grinning demon remained standing on the top, looking down on you with glowing eyes and a smug smile while you struggled to stand back up, your ankle sharply throbbing with pain. “Oh my, seems you are a flight risk, my dear.” He had said with a low chuckle, and if you’d usually reason that this incident had just been due to your general clumsiness, the deep satisfaction you could see in his eyes as you limped back up the stairs made it apparent that this wasn’t the case here.

From then on, stranger things just appeared to happen to you. They were slight nuisances at first, like getting locked in rooms that didn't even have keyholes or following stairs leading into nowhere, ending up in you getting exceedingly lost or terribly late to Charlies exercises, or furniture simply collapsing underneath you during dinners or get-togethers. Those incidents always were inconspicuously accompanied by the presence of Alastor, who appeared seemingly out of nowhere and with some kind of casual joke he cracked at your misfortunes, but there always was something about him that told you these so-called jokes were in a way maliciously aimed at you, more thinly-veiled accusations more than lighthearted antics.

As time went by his efforts became less discreet - he tried less and less to hide the fact that he was the cause of your various misfortunes. Things you carried with you disappeared, just to land into his hands... always personal, embarrassing stuff that he theatrically and loudly announced to anyone near before giving it back to you. "You surely didn't mean to drop this, darling, though I must say that sage green doesn't suit you at all." he had purred one time, twirling some lacy piece of underwear of yours in his hands when you had retrieved your laundry to carry it back to your room, holding it just long enough out of the reach of your panicked attempts to snatch it from him so that the whole lobby could stare in interest, pity or amusement before he finally let it fall into your hands. You were tripped even more, his shadow blatantly laughing at you from under the feet it was holding to make sure you'd fall, and his obviously faked tutting at it with that devious smile of his stung even more than the words that came with it.

"Now, now, don't look so affronted, my dear - what's a harmless prank between friends? No hard feelings, hm?"

That became a catchphrase of his - a question not so much directed towards the victim but an exclamation directed at everyone present to assure them that everything happening was harmless and perfectly okay. And you always played along.

Truth was - despite rhyme or reason – that you were infatuated with him. His witty sense of humor, that mischievous grin that set off so many alarm bells yet was oddly charming, the power and knowledge he was carrying inside him that showed on how effortlessly he handled any situation... maybe it was because he was almost everything you were lacking that you endured his relentless teasing. In addition to the respect you had for the older demon's dangerous side, the little flicker of hope in the corner of your mind that he might someday turn from 'funny but cruel' to just 'fun' if you'd prevail long enough was too strong and it became easier every day for you to try not to be bothered with each new stunt Alastor would pull, hoping that today would be the day where something in the impenetrable brick wall that seemed to be him would crack, allowing your real self to show through and find some acknowledgement in his eyes.

What had just occurred, however, had you question that hope tremendously. You had felt hot and feverish since yesterday, suspecting you'd maybe coming down with something. But as much as you tried to avoid the others as to not spread whatever disease you were cooking up, you seemed to keep running into them.

Not all of them, just the men, though.

New residents, delivery men, even Husk and Angel seemed to smell you from afar. They popped up everywhere, and you thought yourself delusional when they stood unusually close to you, were uncomfortably touchier and their eyes more intense and even hungry when they stared at you as you practically fled from them with the excuse of getting sick. The only one who kept his distance for once was Alastor, who you only saw once, with a twitching grin on his face and a dangerous aura of his shadows around him that seemed to flicker with dark energy when Julius, one of the newest hotel guests, had cornered you and put one of his bear paws much too low on your hips, suggesting to get a drink with him to cool you off. Though you had a feeling that the radio demons glowing eyes continued to stalk you, even without seeing him again. You had decided to skip dinner and just go to bed, hoping that whatever was happening to you, it'd be over by the morning.

But the night didn't bring any relief, you just woke up in more sweat and short-breathed exhaustion, filled with a dreading sense of anticipation for something unknown to you, as if your body was in constant alert mode. After checking the time, finding it close to breakfast and your stomach twisting with hunger, you made your way downstairs, hoping it was early enough for the others to still sleep and to catch Charlie alone and talk to her, not knowing how to describe the feelings you had felt but sure that somehow the hellborn princess could tell you what the hell was wrong with you. But as soon as you turned corner on the first landing base, you had felt it - electricity in the air.

In the blink of a moment, the floor became dark and gloomy, shadows creeping out from the growing void’s fraying edges, and instinctively you turned on your heels to practically fly down the hundreds of steps just in time before the deafening screech hit your ears. Every strand of your copper fur stood on its root as you panted, flaying yourself around another corner and watching a beast with familiar, yet obscurely twisted and long antlers crash into the wall behind you in frenzied pursuit. For one second too long you were frozen in place, realizing two things.

One: That it was Alastor that was chasing you.

And Two: That as soon as you knew it was him, your body reacted with a sudden wave of heat and ache, the thought of fleeing completely wiped from your mind but instead turning as if to throw itself into his waiting claws.

The momentum of the crash made him swipe at you, and without that one second too long that you would’ve needed to react, you didn't have time to dodge it. Instead, you had lost balance and fell backwards down the stairs, the impact on the tiled marble floor of the hotel lobby so loud it had Charlie and Vaggie rushing out of the kitchen and hurry towards your shocked and sprawled out, but miraculously unharmed form.

"Are you sure you're okay? You’re burning up…" Charlie asked, her hands gently rubbing the back of your neck as both women helped you back up.

"You look pretty rough..." Vaggie added, her brows furrowed. You were sure you looked like a complete mess - your hair sticking out in all directions, your tail bristled, your shirt damp and the fabric clinging to your flushed body, your pupils blown and your breath shallow.

"I-I'm fine, it's just a little fever. But, listen-"

A hand on your shoulder made you instantly mute, long, red tipped claws digging slightly into the thin fabric of your shirt, not breaking through but still stinging the flesh underneath. Its heat soaked like hot oil through the cloth down into your skin, burning its way deep into your core.

"How about I escort you back to your room, darling, as my way of apologizing for my little... shenanigans. We wouldn't want your current state to... affect the others. Does that sound reasonable?"

His voice was sickeningly sweet, almost too innocent, the smile on his face wide and his eyes twinkling in almost a warning that only you caught. From the corners of your eyes you saw Vaggie turning red with anger and ready to blow up at him, and Charlie, worriedly fidgeting with a conflicted face. If you'd stay silent, the girls surely would take you out of his grasp safely. You could escape him. Any logical mind would take that chance without second guessing, especially after what happened just mere minutes ago.

"That'd be nice, Alastor."

The walk back to your room was tense and quiet. His hand had left your shoulder, and the coldness it left behind made you want to wince. Your mind was still fuzzy and your body aflame, but as you climbed up the stairs, his tall figure close behind you, the space between the two of you suddenly felt much too large after the novelty of actual, physical contact. It just occurred to you that indeed, he had never touched you before - the pushing, shoving and teasing all done by the sentient extension of his shadow companion that followed him everywhere he went. But he had never directly touched you - until now. Innocently enough, and yet you couldn't seem to shake the weight of the ghostly hand still present on the dip of your neck. The thought alone made your tail shiver, and the sudden realization made your legs move faster, the tension in the air almost suffocating.

Reaching your door, you take a deep breath. The air around you smelled musky and thick, a scent that you could've sworn wasn't there before, and the feeling of his looming presence behind you almost makes you dizzy. You turn the key with slightly shaking hands and turn as you open it, expecting him to make a snide remark and say his goodbyes for now. Instead, you don't even get to move your head before his hand returns, this time on your lower back, to all but shove you into the room, followed by him, and the loud thud and click told you he'd closed it shut and locked it, the chiming of your key on the keychain shrill in your ears.

"You seem to be in quite the predicament, my dear."

He hummed, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, and as much as your instincts told you to back away, the fire inside you had flared up and you stood still, waiting, anticipating.

"Your little display yesterday was a nice touch. A little too theatrical, perhaps, but not everyone has the natural talent for drama like I do, hah!"

He chuckled, coming to a halt barely a foot in front of you, his eyes gleaming with something you had seen before, but couldn't name. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice level.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't play coy now, little vixen. You weren't really discreet in your search for a willing mate, but I thought you'd at least show some decorum not to flaunt your pheromones like this." You stared at him, a bit dumbfounded and the gears in your brain turning much too slow.

"...Mate? Wh-what pheromones? What are you talking about, Alastor?"

He blinked, tilting his head. His gaze was piercing, and yet you could've sworn he had a hard time keeping it on you, as if he wanted to look anywhere but at you. "Don't tell me you don't know?" he purred, a dark smirk pulling at his lips, a slight glimmer of the yellowish hue of his sharp teeth showing from behind them.

"How quaint. I'm afraid I didn't take into consideration that you are not the type to make yourself acquainted with the hellish form you took on. Why, you're in heat, darling. A very... desperate and needy one, at that."

You were unable to speak. You had known that something was off yesterday, when the men started crowding around you like vultures, their eyes hungry and their approaches over-eager, but not once had the word 'heat' come up in your mind. You had been in Hell for not even nine months, not exactly long enough to really explore all its nuances and differences. You had only heard the term 'heat' being used before in relation to animals – which, in hindsight, you technically were, in a way. Your ears and cheeks burned and your head was swimming, your tongue like a dry piece of sandpaper in your mouth.

"H-how did you... why did you..."

Alastor sighed, taking a few steps towards the windows. "As I said, darling, you weren't very subtle. And neither were the buffoons that stumbled over their own feet trying to make you choose them. The smell of a vixen in heat is hard to resist, after all." His head fell back, and the expression he wore when he looked at you was both frightening and intoxicating. "And the scent that clings to you is absolutely divine."

His words made you blush and shudder, the ache between your thighs growing so embarrassingly strong you quickly tore your eyes from him and looked at your hands that were fumbling with your damp shirt. He hadn't even touched you, but your body was already begging for him, as if it knew his presence would be the solution to all your suffering. Why were you reacting like this to him, and not the others that had swarmed you yesterday? It made no sense, none of it did.

"Why were you chasing me, then?"

The question escaped you before you could bite your tongue, and he turned around, a brow raised but his smile wider now and the smug amusement that was so habitual of him returning to his eyes .

"Well, my dear, you were running."

He laughed at your expression of shock and dismay, obviously proud of himself as you opened your mouth and closed it again and again, no words leaving it. You watched him raise his hand up as a means to silence your inevitable ramble, to stop you before you were even able to find something to say. "Although I have to admit that I quite lost myself a bit in the heat of the moment - pun intended. Which brings us back to topic."

He was closer now. Not fully in your personal space but in the almost invisible borders between friendly distance and invading closeness, arms behind his back and a mocking grin on his face.

"Now what will you do, little vixen in heat? Unlike our earthly counterparts, demons in heat stay in it unless they've bred sufficiently - Oh no, it'll only become worse the longer it’s avoided. Do you have one of the many low-rank rutting sacks that are roaming about the hotel just for a chance to fill you up in mind to sate your needs? Most of those unworthy imbeciles would happily spread their seed into you, but - Oh dear, where's the fun in settling?"

You couldn't think straight. You knew what he was insinuating but couldn't bring yourself to truly understand and accept the gravity of the situation. It felt too much like a dream, your mind foggy with fever and every nerve and muscle in your body aching. You knew by now that your mind had chosen the one you wanted long before your body forced a decision. But despite the painful want you were scared of saying it out loud, just to be rejected. Left wanting. The perfect and most cruel tease he could use against you yet, delivered by your own damned nature.

Alastor clicked his tongue, pacing from your one side to the other like a shark in the span of your thoughts that slowly began to settle, rubbing his chin in false contemplation. Your eyes followed him absent-mindedly, and when the whirlwind of your thoughts quieted for a moment, you saw with shock that pearly beads of sweat began to form under that fiery fringe of his hair and the fingers tapping on his chin twitched ever so slightly.

“Well, your scent certainly tells me what you seem to be unable to. But good things only come for the ones that ask for it, darling.”

Again, the tingling that started to become oh so familiar shot down to your belly with the heavy pull that the glint in his eyes had on you. Maybe it was the primal need you felt playing a trick on you but something in his composure, normally so perfectly put and stoic, struck you as hastier and more unrefined. The barely hidden jerk of his ears, the slightly glossy sheen in his eyes, and that intensifying smell of musk and moss and spices oozing from him all were subtle but noticeable telltale signs, just small imperfections in his person, tiny cracks of his façade that grew larger and louder the longer he was alone with you. And finally, they began to speak a language you knew.

Without knowing the details, you became aware, sensing that he, too, wasn't nearly as collected as he liked to present himself. As if the fact that he was here, alone in the room with you was enough to allow him to slip up, ever so subtly and most certainly not intentional. You had noticed from day one that it was nearly impossible to truly get a read of his emotions, an impressive trait you envied to some degree. Yet, the most rational part of his brain appeared to have shut off when his pupils widened ever so slightly as you closed the distance between your bodies, finally throwing caution and fear and hesitancy to the wind. It was a leap of faith.

"I… want you. If..." Your voice was shaky and breathy, and everything in you wanted to pounce him, touch him, bite and scratch and bind him to you, but you resisted, both scared and excited for his reply, the space between your trembling bodies paper thin. "... if you'll have me."

Before your brain could really register what's happening, his smile became predatory, his red irises swallowed almost completely by his dilated pupils, making the blackness appear brighter than his naturally glowing eyes, the shadows around him writhe and grow.

"Oh, I indeed intend to have you, little fox." he cooed, an echo-like echo mixing in with the static of his usual voice. It sounded wrong, demonic, but it lit a flame of pure want within you. It made you frantic in the need to touch him, and the first and only thing your trembling fingers could grasp was his red coat, the instinct you acted on so intense you ripped the fabric from his shoulders and sent buttons flying as your hands sprouted black claws.

For a second, you were blind with panic but his dark, rumbling laugh eased the fear, your head tilting up as he lifted his taloned hands, moving over your head and dragging the tie and the suit jacket along. He held your stare as the two items landed next to you on the floor and his head tilted, a silent, cocky, knowing approval of the first piece of your real, raw self he had gotten to see, and the gesture made you almost break from under his hands as they went back into motion, hungrily peeling the sweat-damp shirt off your back. He was quick yet careful, but when you felt those sharp claws of his scraping over the curve of your back you couldn’t stifle the wanton whimper they drew from you.

He shrugged the remaining pieces of shredded, crimson fabric off his shoulders and pulled on the sleeves of his ripped dress shirt, seemingly not as affected or distraught as you by having lost almost all of its buttons in your careless undressing of him, and it had you lick over your fangs that poked through when your senses became clouded with desire.

His skin faded seamlessly into soft, thin fur right under his clavicles, spreading over his lean chest and arms and towards his flat, toned belly and his hips, where it began to look like it continued on his legs but was covered by the high waisted pants of his immaculate dress outfit. Hypnotized by his alluring form, you barely noticed how quickly he took piece after piece of your clothing off of your sweaty body, the fire in you fanned by the mere feeling of his sharp fingertips dancing over your hot skin, until there was no fabric left to take off. You only realized you were completely nude once he pulled your head up to face him by your chin, his grin glistening as if he was salivating at the view of you - and it drove you mad. His other hand reached around you, finding the base of your bristled tail, long fingers raking through the fur and pulling teasingly on it.

"What a fine specimen of a vixen you are, darling..."

You don't give him time to crack any more jokes as you wrapped yourself around him, rubbing your head against his neck with a growl in a primal need to rub your own scent into him, marking him, wanting him - no - needing him and him only to ease the infernal heat bubbling inside you. The only one worthy, your instincts were telling you, and the thought was taking a hold of you, dragging you down whether you wanted or not. The sheer feeling of his exposed chest brushing against yours was almost overwhelming and your hips instinctively rutted against his, begging and silently pleading for him to fulfill his duty as your chosen mate. A chuckle, resonating deep in his chest, roused from him as he gripped your shoulder with eager force, throwing his weight into you and pushing the two of you the last couple of steps you've still had left onto your bed. Your hands found their way into the soft, maroon fur of his ears, his silky scarlet locks and down his lean, muscular back, clawing and pulling and kneading as the urge to ruin him just as he was ruining you became overwhelmingly powerful and undeniable.

"Aren't we eager now? So desperate to be bred."

A tight tug on your copper fur, which drew an unexpectedly lewd and desperate sound from you, tore your eyes away from the straining, bulging fabric of his pants, where they had previously been staring for a moment too long, your wide blown pupils reflecting his. With your cheeks, chest and shoulders flushed, you saw that a faint pink colored his features, which darkened more the longer he was looking you up and down, the large hand on your side flexing, scratching and kneading every inch it could reach, as if he was still trying to collect himself.

"Y-You don't look too u-uninterested as well." you stutter as his warm lips trailed over your collarbone and down to your nipples, softly sucking one while his other hand twirled the other between his talented fingers, the pinch deliciously painful. When he flicked his tongue out and you yelped at the intense, electrifying and unbelievable feeling he shot into you with that single, simple move, his laughter vibrated against the sensitive flesh between his lips and you swear it's the first time you ever heard him really, genuinely laughing - a deep and powerful and sincere sound. You can feel it throughout your whole body and soul and something within your mind flickers to life - as if his laugh had recharged a part that had been turned off and numb during all of your times in Hell so far, only now to feel truly alive, you and Alastor’s souls intertwining and connecting in a way you had never believed possible before.

"Finally growing into your fangs, I see. Well, if that's the case then..."

He moved swiftly, shifting his weight and pulling you with him, until your places were reversed and you sat on top of him with his hands on your waist pressing you down, down, down - the clothed bulge pressed against the junction of your thighs. A heady moan was ripped from the depth of your throat as your sex ground down against the coarse cloth of his pants, the delicious friction all the more tantalizing for the simple fact that it wasn't nearly enough.

His pupils were huge, black circles with ticking dials in them, nearly completely swallowing the rich crimson, and his normally discreetly hidden antlers sprouted with loud cracks, growing exponentially with each new sound that broke the seal of your lips, each buck of your hips or twitch of your thighs.

"... prove to me how you deserve to receive my seed."

As the words fully hit you, all blood rushes downwards and your body responds on its own. Your mouth latches on his, not sweetly, not gently - wetly, harshly, the clash of tongues and fangs drawing blood, iron and spice spilling in both of your mouths as a new wave of hot arousal wets your center, seeping into his pants.

With both clawed hands planted on his chest you could feel every single tremor, twitch and move of his - the furious pulse of his blood running under your fingertips, the shudder as you breathed his name against the heat of his jugular - you wanted to memorize, tattoo each second into your mind because despite the hazy frenzy you found yourself in it didn't elude you that this might be a once in an afterlife time thing. The thought pained you, and you felt tears prick in the corners of your eyes, which went completely disregarded by both you and the one so voluntarily trapped beneath you.

His claws raked up and down the smooth, soft skin of your sides, tracing every inch and curve and divet and painting them with red streaks, before he finally - FINALLY - moved them to his belt, the clinking sound of his buckle opened music to your ears. The buck of his hips in an attempt to get his slacks to slide lower, his soft grunt as his cock sprang up when he freed it from its clothed confines, it all drove you even madder, his powerful aura and the heaviness of his swirling shadows tipping and bending your senses as you desperately sought to draw out more of these delicious sounds, more of that want that was so obvious now in his eyes and staggered breath.

You lean forward as your tail whipped and shivered as it stood up bristled in arousal, almost losing your balance for a second, bracing yourself on his bared chest as your tongues, teeth and lips crashed together again. Jolts of white-hot electricity shot straight down to your core at the feeling of the damp tip of his cock catching on the wet and slick opening of your folds. A slow drag upwards and your nails clawed over his pectorals and ribs, his throat answering to your touch with a deep, feral growl, almost beast-like as he slid effortlessly up between your lower lips, the combined juices that leaked from his and your loins slicking the hard length. He didn't let you sheath himself into your throbbing heat though, as if to test you, and you whined as you lowered yourself onto the length of his shaft, rutting slowly on it to satiate the hunger that seemed to only grow.

It was merciful torture, a tease you didn't mind for once as the tip of his cock hit your clit every other slide and the vibration of his taunting purrs traveled throughout your spine, leaving behind a tingling burn. It had you toss back your head, the drool hanging from your lips, completely involuntary but curiously not ashamed of it.

"Al-Alastor, please...I need..." You whined, half out of breath and delirious as the sensation of his tip pushing up against your entrance just didn't seem to be enough, the emptiness inside you demanding to be filled. The very corners of his mouth twitched as he stared up at you, your hips rolling helplessly against his, panting and moaning and begging.

"Need what, darling?"

Your brain was foggy with lust, your fingers twitching as you leaned backwards, your claws digging so deep into the soft fur of his chest that they drew blood, and the fire raging inside you wild and untamable. You wanted to speak and plead, to make your tongue cooperate and to say all the right things, to seduce and coax his shaft to fill you the way you knew only his would, but his sultry yet rough voice seemed to have put a stop to whatever reasonable and rational thought that had somehow still remained. Eloquence eluded you in this desperate state, and the only words leaving your gaped mouth were broken and hoarse.

"Mate me. Fill me. Breed me."

"There's a good girl..." he rasped, one clawed hand firmly squeezing the side of your waist, while the other brushed the thin line of tears, sweat and drool hanging from the corner of your agape lips before holding his swollen cock straight for you to impale yourself on it with a moan.

"Take all of me in, little vixen, show me you are worth it. There you go..."

The stretch was blissful, but not as much as the euphoric waves crashing down on you once your greedy core had swallowed up the entirety of his length, your velvety insides clamping down on the girth the way a vise would. His sly coaxing sent another surge of raw, primal and animalistic passion rippling throughout your body, and with strange triumph you felt him experiencing the same kind of exhilaration, making you mindlessly jump forward and down to fully grind yourself down on his member with all the leverage your thighs provided, while simultaneously his strong grip on your waist and him bucking up into you in that sinfully precise way allowed for him to immediately slam right into your most intimate spot, burying his entire shaft into your dripping, welcoming heat.

Falling in sync was shockingly easy, his muscles as responsive as yours and your bodies molding together like two pieces of a perfect puzzle. He thrusted upwards with a force that took your breath away, forcing the air of your lungs to flow out with the repeated bounce and pressure, your ears ringing with the rhythmical slap of skin against skin. Relentlessly, minute after minute passed, and he cruelly ripped you away from tipping over the edge multiple times, your sanity tearing at the seams whenever he slowed you down on his throbbing cock.

In and out, up and down, faster and faster your two bodies worked together and his thick tip and tantalizing ridges brushed all too perfectly against every right spot as his pace quickened once again, making your eyes roll back and the need to cry out his name through desperate sobs over and over and over again became unstoppable, each time a little less distinct and a little more wild than the last.

"You are quite the noisy little one, aren't you? ǤØØĐ. I do love the way you scream my name." he so much as growled as you did exactly that when his fingers gripped on your hips even tighter, his hold more firm as he forced your trembling, exhausted frame up and down, each new hit a bit harder and deeper than the previous one, his entire body tensing as he picked up the speed to a feverish and merciless intensity that had you cry out with pain and pleasure alike.

"β€Ǥ for your release darling, tell me who you want to be filled by once again."

"A-Alas...tor! I'm- fuck... please, let- I w-want only y-ou..."

It was all too much - too hot and too big and too deep, too close and too far away - thick, hot tears joined the sweat and drool that ran down your face. You wished it was over and yet that it would never end, that you could stay frozen like this for the rest of eternity - filled and aching, burning and melting on him, giving and taken from. You were broken, yet pieced together at his hands, and all of a sudden, just like that, he moved you up and his cock felt so much thicker than before this time. With one last violent push he pressed you deep into his lap - You screamed as you felt something swelling inside you, interlocking the both of you as he came right when your own vision turned first white, then black while you mercifully collapsed on top of him, finally being allowed your long-craved release. Hot seed painted your insides and made your toes curl, his cock twitching deep inside you as he gasped through the last ropes of thick and warm release. It lasted and lasted, his hand frantically stroking over your spine and down your whipping tail while he shushed you and purred praise after praise into your folded ears.

It took a few long moments for the fog to clear from your mind before you realized you had buried your nose and mouth into the crook of his neck, teeth sunken in his taupe flesh and fur unconsciously. You dared to turn your head enough to watch his face - his eyes had returned to their usual shades of red, and the engorged branches of his antlers were slowly retracting back to the small, hook shaped ones nestling at the crown of his head. He was still smiling, wide and satisfied and superior almost. You gingerly retracted your fangs from his neck, but when you attempted to unmount him – rationality, and with it shame, creeping back into your consciousness - Alastor's arms locked firmly around your bare frame, rendering you unable to move.

"So eager to get rid of me, already?" he cooed, a chuckle rising from his chest. "I wouldn't advise to move yet, my little vixen - Not while we're knotted."

"We're... knotted...?!"

He nods, and you follow his intense stare down to where you and him were still connected. Sure enough, you couldn't make out his shaft itself but a noticeable bump stretching the flushed lips of your sex impossibly wide, the sight causing you to gasp and tear your eyes away in shameful realization. A tidal wave of blood flushed your cheeks - partly due to arousal, but mostly because of embarrassment and confusion, and you willed yourself to stay calm and not to freak out. When you looked back to him you found him grinning, his expression the picture of amusement but there was something tender in the glimmering ruby eyes that looked up to you. It felt strange that even though you were sitting on top of Alastor, you still felt small and submissive to him, how much dominance and assertiveness he could hold even in a position like this.

"How long...?" you managed to ask, avoiding to look at him by turning your head aside, staring at the mess of ripped and torn cloths on the carpet.

"How long?" he echoes, but there's a pause until he hums a dark and pleased sound, "Well, darling, your guess is as good as mine. Despite what you may think, I've never knotted with anyone before."

You thought your heart would jump from your chest and flutter through the room when his hand softly petted the base of your fluffy tail before his knuckles ever so lightly traced the line of your back. His other arm still held you tightly, and his fingertips danced over the heated skin of your side, the soft caresses a sharp contrast to the way he'd handled you only a few minutes prior. You were overwhelmed by the sheer gentleness and intimacy, the vulnerability it made you feel, and you felt a lump forming in your throat.

"Relax, my little vixen. You've been so good for me, so now let me service you while we wait."

Too stunned and overstimulated to respond you feel his mouth licking and kissing along the various bruises and cuts scattered over your chest and torso, his hands soothingly stroked every inch of your sweat-damp body, tracing the lines of the scratches and welts he had left on your hips and waist while he still managed to somehow hold you still. Every touch and kiss had your tail bristle and quiver, a whimper leaving your throat, but he didn't stop until his lips were pressed to the pulse on your neck, the steady and heavy heartbeat drumming against his nose and chin.

"You know, I knew you'd come to your senses and give in to my advances eventually, darling. Although I didn't think it'd take you to get into a heat to finally admit it."

"Your wh-..."

He latched onto your breast, sucking a little too harshly on the sensitive nipple as if that’d answer your unfinished question, and the yelp that tore from your throat turned into a moan when his teeth raked over the nub before his tongue flicked out, soothing the pain he had caused while your head swirled in confusion.

Advances?

What did he mean, advances?

All he had done since you two met had been taunting and teasing and chasing and ridiculing you... right? Another sharp bite on your sore bud had you gasp, partly by pain but also by epiphany.

Like a boy on the playground, pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes, Alastor had tormented you, chased you, tripped and caught you, waiting for you to get the hint - No hard feelings, hm?

All this time, every day and any second, in his own weird, twisted way, he had been showing a perverted version of affection and pursued you.

You weren't sure how to react, what to feel - there was too much to wrap your head around and no way in hell you'd be able to sort through it all right now, with his cock still locked inside you and his lips wrapped around your breast, still teasing, still taunting. Although now, with the context you were given, you welcomed it, wanted it even. The more you thought about it the more it all fell into place, and his actions towards you suddenly felt less and less like harassment and more like a tremendously badly executed attempt at wooing. But it was oh-so in character for him, the enigma that was the Radio Demon, and you would've laughed if his ministrations on your chest and his gently swaying hips wouldn't have coaxed your body slowly but surely steer into yet another, but softer - almost lazy - orgasm.

"You are... o-oh god... the biggest p-pain in the ass, Alastor…"

He laughed, another genuine and carefree one, the vibration of his voice tickling your flesh as you came again with a pitiful moan and he let go of the rosy, pert nipple to lift his head, the soft and tender smile and the glint of his sharp teeth a sight you knew you'd never be able to forget.

"That's what they all say, dear."

Tag, you're it! - @diffidentphantom @sirens-and-moonflowers @tayraedoll @catticora @valerie-is-in-the-cupboard as well as my fab four (whose fics carried me through my unavioidable vertigo pause)

LOVE YOU @hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes and @synamartia <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #quickfics #hazbin smut #alastor smut #bottom alastor #rut fic #sinner in heat #bottom al is still in charge #dumbest flirting ever #better a few broken bones than a broken heart #Alastor is good in aftercare

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starsofang · 8 months ago

Text

Change of Heart

hitman!simon x f!reader / part 7

previous part

tw: NSFW, MDNI, don't wanna spoil but just be aware!

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

Good things don’t last. And both you and Simon were about to have a cruel reminder.

Simon stuck around after the two of you had shared the intimacy of a kiss. He didn’t let it go farther than just that, and neither did you. In fact, the rest of his time spent cooped up in your apartment was rather quiet and calming, despite the events that had taken place.

There was still fresh blood on his hands. He had let Ghost take over his senses and consume him in a blind rage, only to return to you as Simon, rage simmering into a flutter of calm.

Simon felt like he was lying to you. And truthfully, part of him was. You didn’t know about the realness of his job or what he did. You didn’t see the knives he embedded in unexpecting men and women, or the droplets of powdered poison slipped into their glasses at parties. You were blissfully unaware of the true nature of his being.

Simon couldn’t exist without Ghost, but Ghost could certainly thrive without Simon.

Ghost could also live without you. No – he’d have to live without you, at some point. Simon just didn’t want to.

He was being selfish and he knew it. He was taking advantage of a woman who had no business being involved with him, yet his heart was unable to let you go and finish the job, the job he’s always been destined to do until death did he part.

Simon had been lying to you, and now, all of it was crumbling down on him.

Price’s text stared back at him from the brightness of his phone screen. It was like staring into the eyes of death, causing his chest to fill with a sickening tightness that made it hard to breathe.

“We need to talk. You know where to meet me.”

So he left you. He made sure you were fast asleep in the comfort of your bed, sheets pulled up to your ears, and he selfishly allowed himself a minute to stare down at your snoozing figure. So peaceful, you were, eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes fanning beautifully across the tops of your cheeks. Your mouth was parted with puffs of air exhaling from your lips, ones he had pressed kiss after kiss against the night before.

Selfish.

The streets were busy as he walked, yet the impending doom that hung over him like a storm cloud muted the sounds and circled him in a bubble. He didn’t hear the chatter of people passing by, nor the cars that revved and honked from the roads beside him.

It was a cruel silence as he went, like his mind was shutting down all aspects of life in a cruel reminder of the ones he’d taken away.

Price resided in a remote apartment complex, one that showed just how much he worked for what he did. Killing people, just like him, but taking on a role on the side of watching over him as well as Gaz and Soap. Brothers they were, all of them, and now Simon feared he was fucking up the dynamic by being greedy.

“Ghost,” Price greeted as he opened the door. Simon gave him a curt nod and entered the residence, following behind Price.

The man in question was silent when he made way to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea. He offered Simon none in return, and Simon knew it was his subtle way of showing disappointment.

“Let’s chat,” Price mused, gesturing with a hand for Simon to join him in the living room.

Simon sat with his fists on his knees, back straight as a board, as Price sat in front of him in a much more relaxed state, leaning back and resting an ankle on his knee. He sipped at the tea, eyes boring into Simon’s.

“You fucked up, Simon.” Straight and blunt, cutting right to the chase. It stuck into Simon like a bee sting. “Killin’ a man outside of a job. Killin’ him of your own free will.”

Graves. The memory of his body, stabbed ruthlessly in his kitchen, his blood puddling the floor in a red mess, staining Simon’s skin an ugly crimson that he spent lifetimes scrubbing off. Mutilated, mangled, completely unrecognizable, all from Ghost’s doing.

“What the fuck were you thinkin’?” Price roared, displaying the layered frustration he had kept abay up until now. “This is your job, Simon, our job. You kill to get paid, not kill for your own pleasure.”

“I know.”

“You know, and still did it.”

“I fucked up.”

“Damn right you fucked up, Simon,” Price sneered. He stared at Simon with a look of anger, before it simmered down to one of muted frustration, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He pressed his fingers to his eyes, squeezing them shut, before dropping his hand back down. “You need to let her go.”

“Who?” Simon asked, and Price scoffed.

“Don’t be coy. Gaz told me everythin’. Had Soap follow you around when you killed that Graves guy, saw you go back to your little bird’s place. You know who I’m talkin’ about.”

Fuck.

He’d been sloppy, all because of you. Simon never, in all his time of being a hitman, missed the feeling of watching eyes following him around. He never missed the hairs on the back of his neck standing up at the feeling of something or someone watching, observing, never missed the shiver running down his spine in a cold chill.

“This isn’t a fuckin’ game, Simon–”

“I know–”

“--yet you’re playin’ it like it is. This is a civilian’s life we’re talkin’ about, and not only did you kill Graves without payment, but you haven’t clipped your damn bird of her wings like she wants.”

Every single word was a harsh slap to the face, and Simon hated to admit that Price was right. He had rejected the job offer you’d given him from the very beginning. You wanted to die, you wanted to seek safe haven, yet he took that away from you. He wanted to save you, wanted to show you that life had meaning in its own ways, yet where were his reasons to stay?

Simon was a fucking hypocrite. Both to you, and himself.

“You know what you have to do, Simon.”

Simon stared at Price with eyes narrowed in confusion. He studied the firm lines that littered Price’s face, the way his mouth tugged into a frown, nearly covered by his facial hair. The tea he nursed was now growing cold in the presence of his lap, one hand curled around the handle with a white-knuckled grip.

“You can’t possibly ask me to do that,” Simon scoffed.

“I am, and I will. You either let her go and forget she exists, or you kill her off like you were intended to do in the first place. If you can’t handle it, then I’ll have Soap do it. Your choice.”

Price was giving Simon an option, though really, it wasn’t a choice at all. Either way, Simon would lose you, and he’d be forced to toss you aside like worthless garbage, or be forced to see the life drain from your eyes.

He fucked up, big time. He shouldn’t have brought this upon you. How selfish could he be?

Ghost was the person he was destined to be. Ghost was who he truly was. Up until he met you, he was content with that. He was the best of the best, and performed his job like it was a mundane task. Simple. Easy.

You slowed him down. You broke down the walls he’d so carefully built, brick by brick, all because you were a direct clone of who he used to be before he tread down this path of sinful bloodshed. He was an idiot to think he could have you without suffering the repercussions.

You didn’t deserve that, nor did you deserve a man like him – so broken and bruised, his heart too shattered to glue back together, not even by the tenderness of your own hands.

Maybe death really was the best ending for you. But Simon was a greedy bastard and couldn’t allow a world to spin without a piece of you occupying it.

“I’ll let her go,” he finally agreed. His tongue felt as if it were sharp as knives, slicing the gums of his mouth open with every word. Metallic saliva coated his tongue, filling his mouth with vials of blood. “I’ll cut off contact. Erase her number, forget she existed, so long as you don’t lay a hand on her.”

Price stared at him with an unreadable look. It was like he was pondering, examining, trying to crawl his way into Simon’s little mind and take a gander on what he was thinking. It was intrusive, invasive, and Simon looked away.

“She knows too much,” Price replied, tone much softer and sympathetic than before. “None of us want to hurt her, and her bein’ involved will only risk her safety. I’m happy you found somebody, Simon, I am. But you knew what you were gettin’ into. We can’t fraternize with the innocent, or else somebody else will just end up killin’ her instead of us.”

Simon scowled beneath his mask, crossing his arms over his chest in a defense mechanism. He didn’t want to admit that once again, Price was right, and Simon would’ve been the asshole that would’ve eventually gotten you killed or hurt.

Good things weren’t meant for people like him. You weren’t meant for people like him.

You were a flower in a blooming field of color, while he was the parasite that ate away at your soft petals.

Simon left Price’s with a sour taste in his mouth. It was bile rising in his throat and threatening to combust. It tainted his tongue with sickening acid, and no matter how much he tried to swallow it down, it grew stronger.

He lost track of how long he’d stared down at the messages on his phone, all from you.

“Hey, Si! Where’d you go?”

“Tell me when you have to leave for a job next time, dummy.”

“I’ll pick up some food for you later when you come by!”

Every message was a slice in the arteries of his heart. It filled him with aching pain, one nothing could ever smooth over. You were the bandages that held him together, and what was he? The bastard who took advantage.

He couldn’t let it end like this. He couldn’t click the block button on your contact, he couldn’t walk away like he should. Not without seeing you one more time – because that’s all he was. Selfish, selfish, selfish, a word that echoed in his mind on repeat like an irritating buzz.

Simon’s legs moved on their own accord, already mapping out the path towards your apartment. He knew you’d be home, he knew you were waiting for him to return like normal for his nightly endeavors in your presence.

He moved in earnest, strides long and swift, passing by people on the street without a second thought. He kept his eyes trained forward, not letting a single distraction stop him from seeing you.

Just one goodbye. That’s all he needed.

Making it to the front of your door, he found himself slamming his fist along it, the booming knock filling the hallway. He never knocked, it wasn’t his thing, yet here he was, mind so cloudy that it was the first thing he thought to do.

When the door opened and he saw your ruffled expression, he released a sharp exhale, one he thinks he’d been holding the entire run here. His chest visibly relaxed, shoulders slouching, hand dropping to his side once the door was tugged away from his knocking.

“Simon?” you asked, lifting a hand up to grab hold of his shoulder in attempts to keep him steady while he caught his breath. “You– are you okay?”

“I–” he sputtered, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Simon stared at you before pushing his way into your apartment, slamming the door behind him and locking it up tight.

Millions of thoughts raced around his head, and all of them revolved around you. Not a single thought went unnoticed by your being, and they fluttered around anxiously, like butterflies rapidly flapping their wings and crossing over one another.

“Simon,” you called out again, and he snapped his head to look over at you. Your face was filled with concern, eyebrows pulled together, lips pressed in a thin line. His eyes shifted down, watching the way you frowned. Even when you were taut up tight, you still made him feel dizzy at the sight of you.

Simon’s body moved on its own accord. It was like he lost complete control, instincts taking over.

He tugged off his mask in a frenzy, letting it fall to the floor, before he surged towards you and took your lips in his. The kiss was feverish, desperate. It had your body jolting backwards at the sheer force of it, but when you regained your composure, you quickly fell into his kiss like a helpless puddle of goo.

Limbs entangled with one another, his arms bracketing around your waist and holding you as if letting go would cause you to disappear forever. Your chest was pressed flush against him, leaving you no room to wiggle out, but you melted into him with ease, uncaring of the sudden display of need.

It was dizzying, staggering. It left your mind a fumbled mess.

“Si–” you attempted to croak, word getting cut off as he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, sweetheart,” he breathed, nuzzling his face into the span of your jaw, lips brushing faintly against the skin. “I just need you. Please.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, hand coming up to tangle in the short locks of hair on his head. They were soft against your palm, and you smoothed them down.

“How–?”

“All of you. Please, sweetheart, just– you trust me, right?”

Selfish.

“Of course,” you mused. You felt him smile against your neck.

“Then please.”

“...Okay, Simon,” you whispered, because how could you deny the very man who did nothing but care for you to his best ability? Who saved you when nobody else was there to pick up the pieces and mend you together with the craftiness of their hands? “Okay.”

Simon breathed a heavy sigh of relief before pressing needy kisses along the expanse of your throat. Your head lolled to the side to allow him more access, mouth parting to release quiet gasps of surprise.

Every movement of his was unlike anything he’d done. He was always so calculated, so accurate and careful, yet this time, he was sloppy and unsystematic. It was as if he were only allowing his mind to take over, rather than logistics and realism.

The two of you moved in a clumsy dance, with him guiding you back towards the space of your bedroom with his arms unwavering around you and his lips continuing a messy attack on your neck. When you somehow made it past the door frame and into the comforting safe haven of your bedroom, his hands slipped down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head in a hurry.

“Is everything okay, Simon?” you asked worriedly, and he smiled at you, a tinge of sadness lingering at the back of his pupils.

“Just want to spend time with my pretty girl. Can I do that, sweetheart?”

You blinked at him when his hands came to a standstill against your hips, thumbs lightly brushing over the supple skin. His expression was so soft, one he only reserved for you and nobody else. The lines along his face were smoothened into a tender look, and you couldn’t help but admire it with a smile.

“You always can,” you assured, missing the way Simon winced.

Simon rushed forward once again, and your mouths met in an uncoordinated mess of teeth and tongue. It was hot and heavy, demanding and eager, and it showed in the way he lightly pushed you back to rest on your bed.

One of his hands pressed into the mattress next to your head while the other glossed over your side, cold fingertips causing goosebumps to rise. You shuddered, resting your own hands on each side of his jaw, tangling yourself and getting thrown into his web of affection.

“Wanna touch you,” he rasped, fingers sliding down to the hem of the pajama shorts you had yet to change out of, toying with it but not daring to pry until your say so. “Please.”

You sucked in a breath before promptly nodding, and that was all he needed to slip his fingers past the waistband, dipping his fingers into the warmth of your cunt. He was greeted with sweet wetness, and he let out a quiet groan into the curve of your neck, pressing a messy kiss there.

The pads of his fingers scooped up a bit of your slick like candied nectar, before rolling it around your clit, causing your legs to jolt in surprise. Air filled your lungs, burning at the expanding of your chest, before being released in a blissful form of a sigh, eyes fluttering up at him.

“M’gonna take care of you, sweetheart, I promise,” he murmured against your neck.

Simon’s fingers continued to toy at your clit with a feverish motion, circling at a messy pace. It wasn’t steady, but it didn’t matter – it felt good, and it brought butterflies to swarm in your stomach, blooming at the newfound feeling.

He was so gentle in the way he treated you, yet balanced it out with subtle desperation that had your toes curling as he worked wonders against your cunt. He’d circle your clit, before dipping down to tease at the wetness that sopped out of your hole, just to slide back up to continue the torturous prodding against your sensitive nub.

“Fuck, Simon,” you breathed, voice cracking.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his voice laced with sultry sweetness to it. “That okay, pretty girl? Wanna ruin you, fuck.”

“Please,” you pleaded, and the shakiness in your tone had him kissing you once before sliding his lips down. His fingers slipped out of your shorts, and before you could protest, they tugged down the fabric, soft against your legs, before he dropped them on the floor.

His hands gently spread your legs, and without a single hint of warning, you felt the warmth of his tongue press flat against your clit while his finger eased inside of you. Stars burst behind your eyes and you let out a strangled noise, hand frantically grasping on to his hair and gripping.

It was like the heavens were opening in the clouds above, shining warm rays of light all over you and heating you up from the inside. It was a delicious feeling, the way he sucked and slobbered all over your cunt like a man on a mission, his finger fucking inside of you with earnest.

Messy sounds filled the room combined with your pitiful whimpers and gasps of his name, and they only egged him on further.

If this was the last time he’d ever see you, he’d make it count. Your pleasure was his, and nothing else mattered.

One finger quickly became two, and he created a rhythm between fucking you with his fingers and swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit. The stimulation had you keening, already teetering on the edge of insanity. Your mind was blank and void of anything but moans of Simon’s name.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he breathed into your cunt, making you whine. “Come on. Cum on my fingers, know you can.”

His voice sent vibrations straight through your body, and your back arched with a wail, thighs clamping around his head in a death grip. They shook with the aftershocks of your climax, but that didn’t stop him from swallowing down every bit of you until it became too much.

He only released you when your fingers tugged on his hair, and when he sat back, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Simon smiled at you, eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, pouring over with nothing short of admiration and awe.

You laid on the bed, breathless and sated, a sheen of sweat covering the expanse of your skin. It glimmered in the dim light of your room, and he pressed delicate kisses along the salty sweetness, making his way up your body.

“So good, sweetheart,” he cooed. “Told you m’gonna take care of you.”

You could nothing but nod dumbly, eyes half lidded as you watched him reach down between your two bodies to fiddle with the buckle of his pants. It clanged together, filling the air with glimpses of what was to come next, and when he got it undone, he wasted no time in tugging them down until he was bare from the waist down.

The sight was beautiful. His cock was hot and heavy between his legs, a slight shine over the flushed tip from precum, and you felt your mouth begin to water.

This was Simon in all of his glory, and only you had been the lucky one to see it. What an honor.

“So pretty,” Simon breathed, causing your gaze to snap up from his cock and to his face. His mouth was parted as his large hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily while he looked at you. His breath fanned over your mouth from the close proximity. “So beautiful. You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Your mind turned to mush at his words. You squirmed against the bed sheets, shyly looking away from him. His free hand came up to gently grasp your jaw, drawing you back to look at him, and his smile knocked the wind out of you.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he repeated, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

The feeling of the head of his cock lining up with your entrance had you gasping into his mouth, and he smiled against you, eyes unwavering from yours as he stretched you open.

It was an ecstatic feeling, one that filled you to the brim with elation. It burned inside of you with flickering flames of want.

He continued to push, and push, until he was flush with you, fully seated inside of your warm, slippery heat. There was a scratch that only Simon could itch, and he knew this. It was why when he began to move inside of you, he started off slow before burrowing into a needy pace filled with smothering desire.

Simon rested his forearms on each side of your head, hovering over you while his hips snapped into you, greedily taking everything you had to offer. It sent you into a puddled mess, mouth hung open as throaty moans escaped every time he took more and more. Your fingernails dug into his biceps, grounding yourself as much as you could with the way your body jolted back and forth from the force of him fucking you.

Fucking? Is that what it was? It felt much more meaningful than that. Simon kissed you with sentiment, thrust into you with aching longingness, praised you like a goddess in the sky and you were his saint.

His groans and grunts filled your ears like lovely symphonies, each note sending goosebumps to rise along your arms and neck. It was a beautiful song, filling you with the wonders of emotions. You couldn’t get enough.

“My pretty girl,” he sighed. His own words seem to turn him on further, as his pace increased, becoming an aggressive slap of skin with every thrust. His cock dragged mercifully along the walls of your cunt, his leaking tip hitting the spongy spot and causing your body to go lax as you took and took. “What are you doin’ t’me?”

“Simon,” you whimpered, and he chuckled out a breathy laugh. With his forearms still resided on the sides of your head, his fingers interlocked on the top of your head, holding you firm against him and keeping you in place.

“So fuckin’ good t’me. Don’t deserve you.”

You clamped around him, causing him to groan. His pace was becoming messy and sloppy, but no less relenting.

“I’ll make sure you’re cared for. Won’t ever have to worry ‘bout anythin’ with me around,” he whispered, and you weren’t fully processing the words. To you, it was mindless babble that you simply took in through the hazy state of your mind, nodding eagerly at every empty promise.

The two of you were growing restless, your bodies building a molten core of unleashed pleasure that threatened to erupt at any given moment. It was hot and scalding, burning the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” he asked, almost mockingly. You cried, fingernails digging into his biceps so harshly, the skin nearly broke with pebbled drops of blood. “Yeah? Go ahead, I’ve got you.”

Your own body was betraying you, and you succumbed to the burst of bliss, chest pressing up against his, needy cries singing from your lips. Your eyes spotted with hints of black, the stimulation becoming overbearing.

Simon didn’t allow himself his own pleasure until you had yours, so when he felt you clench around him in a vice, he let himself go, spilling into you and flooding you with milky warmth. It coated your insides like a beautiful painting, filling you with douses of his undying affection.

He slumped on to you, face buried in the crook of your neck. The two of you laid there in comforting silence, catching your breaths and processing the new intimacy formed between you.

While you were riding on a cloud of euphoria, Simon was being dragged into the deepest pits of hell.

Selfish.

What a horrible person he was. All he had to do was let you go, but he did even worse than he had done before.

This was worse than killing men and women. This was worse than killing Graves out of rage.

He was going to leave you behind, make you feel like you meant nothing more than a calculated fuck, and he was going to burn in hell for it. All because he fell in love with you, all because he couldn’t kill you.

When Simon helped clean you up and buried you in your blankets, he waited until you were asleep, sedated and happy. Your frown lines were smoothed over with a look of peace and ecstasy, and he traced along the flush of your skin until he knew it was time.

He carefully made his way out of the comfort of your bed, movements slow as not to disturb you. He gathered his clothes, sifting them on with a hint of resentment for his own actions, and he left.

Just like that, he left.

Simon blocked your number without so much as a goodbye text, or an explanation, telling you that you did nothing wrong. He didn’t tell you that he was the issue, that he was the one in the wrong. Didn’t tell you he fell in love with you, and now he was facing the consequences for it.

He typed out one final message to Price, hoping to satisfy the bastard for what he forced him to do.

“It’s done.”

#cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw3 #cod x reader #ghost cod #john price #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #hitman au #cod fanfic #ghost

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eff4freddie · 8 months ago

Text

Free

No Outbreak AU!Joel Miller x AFAB Reader

Words: 7.7k of basically porn lols

You confess to Joel one of your filthiest fantasies, something you've never told anyone before. He's a good man, but you underestimate just how much he will do for you.

Warnings: Minors DNI. Explicit. Free use. Public sex. Praise kink. Beer bottles and dirty dive bars. Tiny lil breeding kink if you squint. Like seriously guys, this is filth. I've gone a little shy of myself? Like wow we are learning some things about Freddie tonight.

Like most wildfires, neither of you were sure where the first ember landed. Joel preferred dive bars, liked the blues on the juke box, the fact that he would wear his flannel and jeans flecked with paint and wood shaving and no one would notice. He knew you preferred the fancier places, occasionally would make an effort, but knew you also didn’t mind sometimes slumming it with him, sometimes just leaning back into a booth and letting the neon red light leech over your skin. You’d never admit it to his face, never give him the power over you, but you didn’t really care where you were so long as it was with him.

You liked it when he lifted the beer to his lips, saw his throat work to swallow it down. It reminded him of the times you’d made him gasp, groan, as he worked his cock into your throat. It felt like an intimate thing, the chords of his muscles working just right there under his skin. Sometimes you reached out, ran your fingertips under his collar, made him shiver. He’d grab your fingers, put them on his lips, press a kiss to them, tell you off for lettin’ ‘em get so cold in the night.

On these nights, when Sarah’s with the sitter and you’re winding down from a long week of work, its these nights when Joel takes you out in a pretty dress or a shirt skirt, waits in his truck while you slip your panties off and puts them in his pocket, helps you down to the street with a hand gripping the back of your thigh. It’s these nights, when Joel’s worked up from the job site, when he’s stressed about Sarah’s teenage rebellious phase, when it’s been a while between drinks, that he’s handsy with you, pushing himself into a booth in a dark corner and pulling you down on top of him, perched in his lap with your legs spread over his so that he can face you out to the bar, open your thighs just as someone walks past, lets you feel the breeze on your cunt while you hide your face in his neck and burn, either from embarrassment or from how wet he’s made you, showing you off like this, you tucking his hands under your bottom to stop him slipping them into you while you try to concentrate on the specials board.

‘Shy, baby?’ he’d tease you, pulling your hair off your neck to bite at your jaw line, whisper dirty nonsense into your ear while you fought for some kind of decency, some way to cover yourself up, at least until you’d finished your first drink.

It was one of those nights, when he’d finally relented and let you eat your meal in peace, that he’d got it out of you, the confession that set the whole thing in motion, the idea taking root in Joel’s mind so swiftly that the tendrils of it spilt into his veins, spiralled down to his cock, made him harder than he ever remembered being.

You knew this about Joel. That it wasn’t a jealousy streak, or an insecurity, that it wasn’t even so much of an exhibitionist streak for him. It was just that he liked showing you off, liked knowing that of all the men in the room who were undressin’ ya, wantin’ ya, he was the one with his fingers buried in your cunt while you struggled to act like nothing untoward was going on. He liked the power of it, the power he had over you, and you wondered sometimes how far he would go with it. What would happen if you were ever found bent over with his cock buried inside you, his hands on your hips pulling you back into him, his teeth bared and his sweat dripping onto your back. You knew without having experienced anything like it that he would probably keep going, that he would like the watching. That he’d probably goad the audience into coming closer, commentate for them, let them see what he, and only he, was wringing from your body as it clamped down around him. The thought of it, the image of it in your mind, kept you awake at night, your cunt throbbing. You felt the pride in it, you supposed, that he desired you so dearly he wanted to show off that he had you.

You knew all of that when you confessed to him what you were thinking about, three beers in and his hand on your knee, rubbing little circles with his thumb, sliding his whole hand over your skin and back down again, not even noticing he was doing it. You watched his pupils blow wide, the far away look come over him as he imagined what you were describing, the way he swallowed, hard.

‘You want that right now?’ he asked, and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning, not quite believing he’d actually been given the bike he’d asked Santa for.

‘No, not right now, probably not ever,’ you said, flopping your head onto his shoulder and listening to his quickening heartbeat in his neck. ‘Just like to think about it, is all.’

‘Baby you can’t say that to me and not…you have to know what you’re doing to me,’ he all but whined, and you giggled.

‘You wouldn’t mind it?’ you asked, pulling up to look at him again, study his eyes, knowing that you were way out on a limb now. You saw not an ounce of hesitation on his face.

He barely got you out of the place before he had you bent over the bed of his truck, your hands clawing for purchase on the chrome as he drilled into you right there in the parking lot, your face buried in your arms in the hope that the darkness of the night was protecting you both from being arrested.

He didn’t bring it up again for another few weeks, both of your jobs getting too busy, Sarah getting too demanding and fourteen, the world conspiring against you to rob you both of your dirty Fridays. Joel was getting pent up, the idea of it bouncing around his mind too often for him to concentrate, but his bones were sore of a nighttime, and he only had the energy to relieve himself in the shower before climbing into bed and switching off the light. You didn’t mind it, had been together a long enough time now to know there would be ebbs and flows. He held you as you slept, he kissed you in the morning even as you tried to shove him off and scold him for his morning breath, promised to take you out when your schedules were clear and knew that he meant it, that he was a man of his sometimes limited words. Sometimes it just went with the territory of wanting him always, you knew, that there would be aching times of not-having.

So you were surprised when you came home from dropping Sarah off at her friend’s for the night and saw his truck in the drive, expecting him much later if the week had been anything to go by. You heard him in the shower and figured he was washing off another stressful day, intending to leave him to it, except that for a man with basically one good ear he was surprisingly adept at knowing where you were at all times, and he emerged, towel wrapped loose around his hips and dripping onto the carpet, to pull you by the arm in with him. You just managed to strip out of your jeans before he was on you, pulling your wet bra off your skin, slipping your underwear down your legs and throwing them into the sink.

‘Won’t need those tonight,’ he said, simply, as you gawped at him, the water running off his shoulders and into your eyes. You leant forward, resting your forehead on his chest. It had been an intense few minutes.

‘Where we going tonight?’ you asked, and he didn’t answer, instead pulling back from you and bending to lift your leg up, hooking it over his elbow. You leant back onto the cold shower tile, the water beating down on your chest, as he dripped your favourite body wash onto a loofah and ran it tightly over your skin, crouching down and slipping your leg over his shoulder to run it up and down the inside of your thighs, each time his fingers sweeping closer to your cunt, the heat and steam of the shower making you light headed as your clit throbbed for him. He was teasing you, working you up and you knew he was going to leave you like this, that this is how the whole night would go unless you did something about it, pushing yourself off the wall and crashing your pussy into his mouth, the sharp angle of his nose landing hard on your clit as he gasped.

It hadn’t been the plan but he wasn’t above improvising. In his head he was just going to tease you a little, make sure that you were up for what he had planned, but this was just as good, just as effective. He was careful not to let you come, careful to keep you right on the edge, the suds and the water running over his mouth and nose as he lathed at your clit, ran his tongue up and down your seam, not letting it dip inside where he knew you wanted him. He looked up your body, watched your hips shudder and the muscles in your tummy roll and contract as you tried to draw him in deeper. He grinned, a huffled little laugh into your pussy. You were furious when he drew back, wet hands trying to grip his hair and keep him there. He held you to him, wrapped you warm up in a towel even as you cussed him out, madder than a barn cat at having had your pleasure interrupted. You were perfect like this, he thought, watching you huff, wild for him. He reminded you to dress for a night out. He made sure your underwear stayed in the sink.

You were still pissed, but your curiosity got the better of you when he missed the turn off for the bar, heading instead over the railway track and further out of town. If you had been speaking to him you would have asked where he was taking you, but you were refusing to let him off the hook for his cruelty in the shower. Twenty minutes later, when he pulled up to a bar you’d never seen before, a couple of dirt bikes parked out the front and a few trucks in the lot out the back, he gave you a little tap on the knee. You turned to him, eyebrows shooting up.

‘Figured we better go where no one knows us, baby,’ he said, and he was grinning at you in a way that made your belly flip, an electric bolt shooting straight between your legs.

‘What are you up to, Miller?’ you asked, as he leant over and undid your seatbelt. He made you jump down out of the truck yourself, striding as he was towards the bar. The bright red OPEN sign buzzed over the door, the sound of it reverberating into the air beneath it where you stood, your nerves jangling in tune. Surely he wouldn’t, you thought. You pulled your short skirt down, worried now that without underwear a strong breeze would expose you to anyone passing by. He held the door open for you, darkness behind him and the sounds of clinking glass, tinny guitar over a shitty sound system, chatter and drunkenness.

‘Trust me, baby,’ he said, and you did, you knew you did. He held his hand out to you. You took it.

Once inside you could see a bit better. The bar itself was quite small, a couple of men sitting around it drinking beers and whiskeys. There was a row of booths under the blacked-out windows, a pool table in one corner. By the bar a hallway led down to the bathrooms. You shivered when you saw it.

He led you by the hand to the corner of the bar right next to the hallway, the single stool.

‘This is where I’ll be,’ he said to you, putting your hand on the bar to feel how solid it was, that it was real and that this was happening, to ground you. He pulled you forward, five or maybe six paces down the hallway, to a piece of wall right by the men’s bathroom. He backed you up against it, letting you glance over his shoulder to the stool where you had just been.

‘This is where you’ll be,’ he said to you, his voice heavy and thick and you recognised the want in it, the need. He spun you around, kicking your feet apart and holding your hands up above your head. You tried to breathe but couldn’t seem to get enough air, tried to expand your lungs but you could only puff and gasp, your stomach doing somersaults as he positioned you. He pushed them into the wall, the two of them held together under his palm.

‘You don’t move them from here,’ he said, stern and calm at the same time. ‘You look over your shoulder you’ll see me, but you don’t move these from here. Nod so I know you heard me, baby,’ he said. You nodded your head, your nose almost grazing the plaster of the filthy wall. He pulled your hips out so that you bowed slightly, your arse sticking back behind you. He ran his hands over the back of your thighs, leant down to cup your bottom as he ran his hands up and over, pulled your skirt over your hips.

Your heart was racing so hard you could feel it in your knees, your whole body thrumming as he exposed you to the room. You heard no shouts or protests, your eyes slammed shut and your face buried in your arm. You could feel cool air on your skin as he moved away from you, and you yelped, a bolt of panic shooting through you. You lifted your head and he was there again, his arms over yours as he covered you, brought his mouth down to your ear.

‘You can do this baby, I’m right here,’ he said, and you felt like you might scream or cry or come, you weren’t sure which or what you preferred, your mind scrambling to keep up with the fact that he was letting you play out one of your dirtiest fantasies, that he trusted you this much, that you knew he would keep you safe, would stop it from going too far if you needed him to, that you wanted this, that you wanted to give it to him.

‘Two rules,’ he said, when he could tell you were coming back into yourself, that you were listening. ‘Hands stay on the wall,’ he said, his voice rough and low as he stopped to chew on your earlobe. You could feel you were wet, could feel you were shivering. You hadn’t had a good look at the men in the bar. You weren’t sure if you were glad of it.

‘Second rule,’ he said, and now he was running his hands over your hips and down your belly to rub little circles into your clit. You shuddered, pushing back against him, felt that he was throbbing. ‘No coming ‘til I say so,’ he said, and then he was gone, your body cold and aching where he had just been.

You lifted your head and turned to watch him over your shoulder, your spine twisting to see without moving your hands, now resting palm-down above your head. You saw him calmly order a beer from the bartender, who didn’t bat an eyelid at you standing, skirt over your arse and bent at the waist, the seam of your pussy exposed to the entire bar, your thighs quivering as you felt the slick start to collect on your skin.

All you could do was try and breathe. Try to keep your knees from shaking, your legs from collapsing underneath you. You turned your face back to the wall, your nose resting on the brick, as you gulped down air and tried to swallow on a bone-dry throat. Maybe nothing would happen if you just stayed completely still, you thought. Wasn’t that how they survived the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park?

You could hear the toilet in the men’s room flushing, the tap running as the dude, mercifully, washed his hands. You knew you were seconds away from being confronted, that he would have to squeeze past you if he wanted to get back to his table, that maybe the others wouldn’t have seen you tucked away as you were down the side of the bar, but not now, not where Joel had positioned you. You closed your eyes, the humiliation of it mixing with heat in your cunt, and you couldn’t decide what you wanted to happen, couldn’t quiet your mind enough other than to count backwards from 10 and try to force your lungs to work.

10. You heard the door swing open, the rush of air ruffling the skirt over your lower back.

9. Footsteps striding out of the bathroom, stopping abruptly.

8. A short, sharp exhale of breath. A ‘what the fuck?’. Surprised, but not angry.

7. A long, heavy second or two of silence.

6. A slower footstep. Another. Towards you.

5. A hand, warm and foreign, on your hip as he moved behind you.

4. The thunderous sound of your voice in your head telling you to just stay still, stay still, stay still.

3. A nervous little laugh as he slid behind you, his hips to yours to get past you on the wall. His hand still on your hip but gripping, fingers squeezing at your flesh.

2. A soft swipe of your cunt as he clears you, his fingers gently fluttering over your seam as you stand, exposed and wet.

1. Your gasp, all of the breath you had been trying to get suddenly sweeping into your lungs, a needy little whine on the exhale, a shiver.

And a few moments later, laughter, a group of men on the other side of the bar, a hint of disbelief in it, a hint of awe. You blinked your eyes open, your body quaking. You couldn’t turn your head, wouldn’t turn your head to Joel, but you knew he was there, knew he was watching you quiver, knew he would stop it if it got too much, that you wouldn’t have to ask him, that he would just know. You felt heat on your cheeks and a twist of something in your gut. For a moment you wanted to skip forward to the aftermath, to Joel holding you in bed and loving on you, recounting the events that hadn’t even unfolded yet as you felt the heat of his skin and the strength of his arms, the muscles ripping under his skin as he kissed the shell of your ear and let you drift to sleep, wrapped up in him.

Joel gripped the neck of his beer bottle harder than he intended, barely registering the cold on his hands. It had been his idea to set this up, he knew that, had rented the whole place out to make a safe space for you to play, had vetted the guys from the job site, had been careful to select the ones he knew would treat you right. Still, though. Still, he could see you were shaking, trying so hard to be good for him with your hands pushed into the wall, and he doubted for just a second, wondered whether he should call it. He could see you were slick between your thighs, could hear that you were breathing heavy. But he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t feel a surge of something a little like jealousy at the way the eyes of the guys travelled over your delicious curves, curves he had – up until this moment – reserved the sole right to traverse. He wondered if the guys would be able to stick to the limits once they had you under them. He was ready to pull you out of there the moment something got out of hand, but he worried, now and for the first time, that by then it could be too late.

You swallowed over your dry throat. You were trying to stay in your body, to close your eyes and give yourself over to it, but you were still struggling to quiet your mind. This is what you had wanted, and you knew Joel would never push you further than what you had told him you would go. You knew that. But did the other guys? You considered for a moment, the thought occurring to you like a lightning bolt, that Joel had worked you up in the shower precisely so that you would be horny enough not to run for the door the second he tried this. You almost wanted to laugh, except that you were too scared to lest you lose all control.

There were more footsteps, coming towards you from beside the bar, and you swore you heard a group of men cheering the man on. He wasn’t hesitating, whoever this stranger in the bar was, probably having spotted you from across the room. You kept your eyes on the floor, your head hanging low between your shoulders. From this angle you could see your ankles, the heels Joel insisted you wear even though you could barely stand in them, realising now why he wanted you off balance, why he wanted you unable to run for the door. Two pairs of trainers appeared between your ankles, a rough hand coming down to rest on your left butt cheek. It wasn’t a slap, wasn’t even a particularly hard grope, but you whimpered anyway, slammed your eyes shut and immediately wondered if it was better to look or not.

And throughout it all your pussy throbbed. Even if you were in turmoil it knew exactly what it wanted, was hungry for the attention and the desires of all these men, was having a fucking field day knowing Joel was watching you, wanting you, from across the room.

The man behind you slid two fingers over your seam, his breath on the back of your neck as he leaned over you. You shuddered, his skin rougher than Joels, as he prodded at you, eased your lips open and ran his fingers up along the flesh there. You realised he was collecting your slick, felt him pull away and his lips smack around his hand as he, presumably, sucked you off his skin.

‘Jesus, boys,’ he called to his friends over the other side of the room, and you startled. ‘She’s fuckin’ sweeter than honey and dripping onto the floor.’

Under the cheers you swore you heard Joel chuckle, and you shivered. You wanted this man to touch you again, almost whined when he instead moved back to his table. You were sweating, could feel that the small of your back was damp, felt like you had a fever, some kind of delirium, the pulsing of your cunt so intense it almost hurt.

You heard more shuffling footsteps, now, three or four sets, as you realised the table of friends were making their way over to you. You shivered, turned a wild eye over to Joel, who was sipping at his beer and watching you, nodding gently at you to keep you there. You kept your hands on the wall. You wanted to be his good girl.

‘And we can touch her wherever?’ a guy was saying, and you moved your face back to the wall, arching your back slightly, practically waving your cunt in the air.

‘She ain’t protesting,’ a voice said, and you recognised it as the man who had just touched you. To demonstrate his point, he extended his hand to your face and stuck two of his fingers in your mouth, and you sucked them willingly, tasting a hint of yourself on him. You felt your eyes close all by themselves, smiling as the man gasped.

‘Holy shit,’ someone else commented, and you were slapped hard on your arse then, the sting of it making you whine. A finger quickly followed, probing you open again, your copious amounts of slick easing the entry.

‘Like this?’ the voice said, and you realised he was asking you a question, and you nodded your head. ‘Yeah, you like this,’ the voice affirmed, a finger finally sinking into your cunt. You felt yourself spasm, throwing your head back and groaning, your hips rolling all on their own.

‘Tight little thing,’ someone said, and you grunted as another finger was added. You were being pushed into the wall, your face lying on the brick, your hands still planted above your head.

‘Ease it on her a little,’ a third voice said, and you felt another hand snake around you, this one cold on the fingertips, as it slid over your clit.

‘Oh!’ you gasped, the pleasure of it shooting through you. You could feel that you were clamping down on the fingers inside you.

‘She liked that a lot,’ the man beside you said, and he pulled his fingers from your mouth and dropped them to your tit, rubbing the nipple through the barely-there shirt Joel had picked out for you tonight.

You were whimpering, gradually losing control of the sounds you were making, of your little cries into the noise of the bar, and you could hear them snickering, laughing at your pleasurable distress, at the ache and thrum of your cunt, at the way you were so wet you were leaking down your thighs.

You were losing your grip on your thoughts, felt them slipping through you, unable to catch them as they dripped past. From somewhere a memory stirred itself up, sitting on Joel’s lap in the bar you always go to, his hand pushing on your clit from outside your panties as he shielded you from the rest of the patrons, whispering into his ear that you fantasised about being used by strange men, about being set up by him to be groped and fondled, to be watched as men took their pleasure from you, to have to wait for them to be done with you, to be bored of you, before you were released. ‘But they never get bored of me, not really. Sometimes they let me rest for a bit. But they want me that bad, they can’t stop.’

‘How long’s this all take, when you think about it?’ he asked, feeling even through the fabric of your underwear that you were dripping.

‘Sometimes hours,’ you whimpered, breathless just at the thought of it. ‘I’m free for their use, for hours. For hours,’ you said.

Now, with your hands against the wall in just the position you had described to Joel weeks before, you bite your lip. God, how long does he plan on keeping you here? You want to come already, want to push down on the hands behind you and flood them with your spend.

These men, though, these three, are just teasing you, and right when you start to rock your hips they pull away again.

‘Unreal,’ one of them says, as if you’re a work of art hanging on a wall in a museum, and you want to howl at them, want to grab their hands and put them back on your skin. You resist the urge, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Joel said no coming, so maybe you should be grateful. Even if you’re now quivering. Even if you’re not sure your legs will keep you standing.

You take a couple of shaky breaths, coming down enough to notice that your shoulders are starting to ache. You roll them, careful to keep your palms connected to the surface, trying to push the hair out of your eyes by running your face along your forearms.

You’re not sure how long you stand there. You try counting the songs on the jukebox but they all sound the same to you, and it’s hard to decipher when one stops and the next one begins. Every now and again there’s the sound of glasses being dumped into the trough behind the bar, clinking ice and peels of male laughter. Once or twice, someone walks past on the way to the bathroom and pat you on the arse, put a hand on your lower back and bend you further, pushing you until your sweet little cunt is more fully exposed. But no one is bold enough to touch, no one is as forward as the three men from before, and you’re feeling a twinge of disappointment settling in between the arousal and the shock. These scant touches aren’t nearly enough, and you realise that you’re pining for someone to come and tease you, play with your cunt or your tits until you’re gasping.

You chance a look over your shoulder at Joel and see that he’s turned away from you a little, his beer in his hand while he chats to a man beside him, and his casual disregard for your predicament infuriates you as much as it sends bolts of heat to your cunt.

You’re being ignored, you realise, and it makes your tummy do weird flips you don’t fully understand. You start to arch your back again, weave your hips in slow circles in the air. You don’t have a lot of mental capacity in this moment, so it’s only later you will consider that Joel had made sure you would beg for any attention, knew that you would be outraged at not being the centre of attention in this moment, that you would reach a new level of depraved heat just to get the eyes back on you. It had maybe been half an hour and you’d gone from praying no one would see you if you didn’t move, to trying to scent the air around you with your cunt, luring them to you like a siren on a rocky cove.

Now, though, now all you want is for someone to touch you, someone to ease their hands onto your skin and feel the heat of it, coo at how mean your man is, how silly for letting a pretty little thing like you out of his clutches. You realise you allowed to close your legs and you do, wrapping one foot behind your ankle so you can rub your thighs together. The skin slides easily and you sigh, gently.

You’re wrapped up in it, your ears tuning out the noise around you to properly concentrate on the thrum of your cunt, so you don’t realise there’s someone behind you until they’re basically on you, kicking your legs apart and arching you back again.

‘Naughty girl,’ the voice says, and it’s not Joel and you’re marginally disappointed but also it means this isn’t over yet, and you grin back at him.

‘Not sorry,’ you say, and you’re pulled back then, almost bent over in a right angle as your hands slide down the wall but stay on it, your arms now covering your ears.

You just barely hear a grunt, then something cold and hard is pushing at your lips for entry, and you realise that you are being fucked in a strange bar with a beer bottle in front of however many strange men, and you groan at the insanity of it, at the filth. He’s twisting it, his other hand finding your clit, and you’re throwing your head back now, your hair falling down your back as you arch, the glass so smooth and cold inside you that you wonder for a second if you’ve fogged it up. Its thrust into you three, four, five times before the man slips it from you, and you hear him take a swig of it, the taste of your cunt on the glass as he lifts it to his lips. He groans, rests a hand on the small of your back as he sips.

‘Sweet?’ someone calls out, and you hear him laugh.

‘Heaven,’ he says. ‘Come get yours before I ruin her.’

You hear chairs being pushed back, and looking down at the floor you count seven pairs of shoes assembling in a line behind you. You can hear some guys are still playing pool, the crack of the 8 ball as someone breaks. You look for Joel’s along the line of shoes behind you. You don’t see them.

There are fingers in your cunt again, two or maybe three, you’re not sure, and you have moved up a little, your tits pressed to the wall as they grope you from behind. It’s delicious, exactly the right pressure in exactly the right spot, as if someone has given them all a manual to your body. Someone lifts your leg under the knee and twists your hip so that you can rest your foot on his thigh, and then you’re even more open, even more exposed. You close your eyes, your spine twisting to keep both arms on the wall, but in this position one man can get underneath you on his knees and lick up into you and you gasp at the feeling of it, the warmth of his tongue compared to the cold of the bottle, and you’re really sweating now, want to rip your top off and pull the skirt from around your waist just to get it out of the way, but someone is using it to hold you still, the fabric bunched under your tits so that you won’t fall. With one mouth on your cunt someone else is behind you with his fingers inside you, and someone else is holding your tits in his hands, his thumbs squeezing and rubbing at your nipples.

Over your shoulder you can hear someone commentating for his friend. ‘Fuck, you thought she was wet before,’ they’re saying, and the way they’re talking about you like you’re not there, like you’re an object for them to play with, a doll, a toy, has you bucking against the tongue on your clit, against the fingers inside you. They’re setting you on fire, the embers catching on gasoline. It’s heaven and its torture and its so, so much.

Fuck, you’re going to come and you can’t stop it. But you have to, you promised Joel. You’re almost wailing now, trying to get the feeling out in some way so that you won’t tip over the edge, and the guys are laughing.

‘Listen to her hollerin’,’ someone says, and you can’t keep your eyes closed anymore, open them to see a bunch of men standing around you, all of them palming their cocks through their pants, as one man crouches under your form, his shoulder pushed hard into the wall to get under you. You can’t see the man behind you but one is off to the side, his eyes on our cunt as he bounces your tits in his hands.

‘Oh, hey beautiful,’ one of the men watching says when he catches your eye. He’s handsome, they all are, you realise, and they’re all in their early 30s and they’re all incredibly fit, and if you had any presence of mind in this moment you would consider that this was an odd coincidence, but as it is right now you just want their cocks in your mouth, want their come dripping over your tits and your face. The one behind you, with his fingers buried in your cunt, is grinding against you and for a deranged moment you consider freeing him from his pants and slipping him inside you.

‘She’s so fucked out,’ someone laughs, and you’re gasping, crying out as if that will stop you from coming, but it’s not enough, the cliff is right there. You’re rolling your hips, your mouth agape and gasping when you’re not howling for relief.

‘Like a bitch in heat,’ someone says. ‘Hey, tag out.’

All of them stop, hold you steady for a second. You’re panting, your legs weak as you lean your weight on the wall. You can feel yourself receding from the cliff again, can feel the throb in your cunt easing off just enough that you can think. Your leg is dropped back to the floor, and you are jostled back into position as the men rearrange themselves, and you realise they’re taking turns using you. Even without their hands on you, the thought alone could make you come. You want to turn your head to look for Joel but they’re crowding around you, and for a second there’s a drop of panic in your belly before it’s replaced again with wildfire. You know he’s there. Know he’ll stop it if he needs to.

‘Holy shit, she’s still so tight,’ someone says, slipping back into place in your cunt, and another man laughs. ‘Get the bottle again, stretch her out.’ Their hands are probing again, a man finger-fucking you from the front now, another holding you up from behind as they twist you off to the side. They’re all staring at your cunt, at where you’re spreading open to take them, marvelling at the intrusion.

‘How many fingers you reckon she can take?’ someone asks, and you buck your hips away from it, away from how obscene it is, from how irrevocably turned on in makes you.

‘Joel said not to mark her,’ someone says, and much later you will recall this, recognise this as the moment you might have realised he had set all of it up, including who these men were. As it was you were too busy trying to quell the rushing bliss thundering through you, trying to hold back the cracking dam with your pinkie finger and good will.

‘Scoot over, then,’ someone says, and you are moved again, your legs opened up a little further so that two hands can be inside you at once, their fingers moving just out of sequence enough that they rub at different speeds, forming a relentless piston, a wave of pleasure that’s going to drag you under, fill your lungs.

You can’t take it. Your eyes are blurring from unshed tears, the respite from moments ago disappearing under the weight of the bodies covering you. Are your hands still on the wall? You open your eyes a crack to check. You want them to throw you over their shoulders and slip their cocks inside you, one in front and one behind. You want to roll on the floor with them, have them line up and sink yourself down on them one by one like some kind of deranged Goldilocks. You want every last one of them to come on you, in you, to breed you, to make you theirs.

You can feel your back arching, can feel that you’re rearing up again, the pleasure twisting up your spine and elongating it, your head pulling hard up and away from your shoulders. You’re holding your breath, trying to keep the orgasm away, but it’s bolting up on you.

‘I can’t, I can’t,’ you’re saying, and you’re not even sure what you can’t do exactly. Can’t hold it back, can’t take anymore, can’t stop. Can’t come like this, not allowed to. Joel’s good girl.

‘Hey!’ a voice booms from the bar and you recognise it immediately, Joel standing up and moving towards you. He’s seen you struggling, has seen your hips rolling and heard your wails as you tried to hold back for him. ‘I said no comin’!’ he bellows, and you groan. Your knight in shining armour has arrived just to keep fucking torturing you.

‘Joel!’ you cry, whine, nearly in tears for the need of him. Suddenly you don’t want any of these guys, you just want him, want his smell and the sweet softness of his flannel, want his eyes on you and his whispers in your ear. Want his cock inside you, his come claiming you from within. He’s shouldering his way to you, pushing the guys out of the way, and then he’s with you, your heart racing as his hands are on your shoulders, turning you back to the wall.

‘So good f’me, baby, I know, I know,’ he’s soothing you and you realise you’re sobbing, your breaths coming in deep huffs.

‘Please, please,’ you’re calling for him, and you feel his arm around your waist, feel him scrabbling around to undo his belt and pull down his fly, at the same time as he’s lifting you up and pulling you down on his cock, the fit of him so perfect inside you, his skin inside yours. The guys are watching and you don’t care, because finally he’s with you again, finally he’s the right one, and you’re groaning and gasping, calling his name as he whispers filth in your ear.

‘None of these men get your come,’ he’s saying, ‘none of these guys. Just me that makes ya come, ya hear me?’ and you’re nodding.

‘I want you to make me come, Joel. Only you, only you.’

‘Can feel you grippin’ me, baby,’ he’s babbling, and he’s not sure he’s ever been so hard. He was so patient, watching the guys take you apart bit by bit, until your eyes were unfocussed and your mouth was hanging open, gasping and trying so hard to catch your breath. He could see it in the strain of your muscles, in the way you were panting and hollerin’, that you were holding off for him, that you were keeping yourself sweet and well behaved out of love for him, out of desire, and despite all the other men in the room that wanted you he knew in that moment you were his, that you were his good girl, his, his, his.

It hadn’t been his plan to fuck you like this, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard you callin’ for him. He’d thought he’d just let you come on their hands or their faces, or that you would eventually break and he’d get to slap your arse a little as punishment, but not that you would nearly snap every bone in your body, let your sinew scream and strain, just to stay his good girl.

He surges forward, gripping you to him with one arm, and raises his other hand to cover yours, still pushing into the wall of the bar. He can feel that the skin is ragged underneath, that the exposed brick has grazed you from your effort of keeping your hands there, and he resolves to bathe you in warm water and lick every inch of broken skin the moment he gets you home.

But not yet. Right now, he’s pushing himself further inside you, lifting you up a little so that you’re just on your tippy toes on the floor, balancing on his cock so he can get even deeper inside. You’re keening, your whole body shaking, and you’re not sure you’re going to survive this but you really, really don’t mind going out this way.

You don’t even have words. You can barely get air. You just entwine your fingers with Joels’ where he holds your hands to the wall, tuck your chin to your chest and howl, the orgasm crashing over you and rolling almost immediately into another one, Joel behind you and fucking up into you while you know you still have an audience, while they’re coming onto the floor at your feet, jerking it to the idea of them being the ones to be inside you, of their cocks splitting you open and feeling your cunt milk them dry. You don’t care about any of them, don’t care that they want you so much they’ll settle for their own fists, because all you want is this man, this one inside you and coming deep into your cunt, this one who loves you, who carries you now in his arms with warmth and strength, who is holding you up as he ruts his spend into you, as he gasps and cries out for you, in this very fucking public dive bar just off the highway, where you know you can never step foot again.

He doesn’t let you sink to the floor, no matter how badly your legs want to give out on you, but is instead wrapping his hands under your knees, under your arms and lifting you to him.

‘Dirty down there, baby,’ he says, and you open one eye to see the streams of come decorating where you were just standing. The men have all disappeared, knowing that the fun is over, and Joel has wrapped his coat around you at some point, and your muscles are loose and stretched and shaking, suddenly cold from the chill of your sweat in the open air. You tuck your head under his chin, listen to the way he grunts, quietly, when he pushes open the door with his shoulder and carries you to the car. You feel him drop you into the passenger seat of the truck, feel him put the seatbelt on you and turn the heater up as soon as the engine starts.

You can’t move, your whole body spent. You realise by how dark the night is outside the car window that it has been hours. That he has given you everything you asked for, and then just a little bit more. You crack one eye open to watch him as he drives, the streetlights strobing over his face, the scruff on his cheeks, the pointed angle of his nose, the greys appearing by the day in his hair.

You feel your eyes drift shut again, the heat of the car and the warmth of his jacket soothing you down to sleep. He has given you something you only ever dreamed about, something you never even hoped to one day have. You don’t mean the guys in the bar.

Tag list:

@kyloispunk

@604to647

#joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader

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eventualforever · 15 days ago

Text

haven (domestic! hamzah x reader, nsfw) ☁️

summary: y/n and hamzah spend a calm morning, hidden in the sanctuary of their home. y/n braids her hair and it drives hamzah crazy.

mentions: fluff, explicit content

Sunday mornings with Hamzah were your favorite. The two of you cocooned in your bedroom, basking in the kind of peace that came with being free from obligations. Neither of you had any plans to leave and honestly, there wasn’t a reason to. He had no videos to edit, no podcasts to record, and you had no tests to grade or lessons plans to finalize. The rare simplicity of it all made you grateful for your decision to be a first-grade teacher, a job that didn’t usually keep your hands full.

The morning was lazy and full of kisses, slow and warm like the sunlight streaming through the curtains. Occasionally Red and Blue would lay in between you and Hamzah, trying their very best to earn some morning belly rubs. You mentally took a picture of your view— Hamzah and your two cats cuddled in between his biceps— before peeling away to get ready for the day. Hamzah groaned in protest, making you laugh as you slid off the bed and walked toward your vanity.

You perched on the little stool, gathering your hair into sections to braid it. But staying focused wasn't easy. From the corner of the mirror, you could see Hamzah sprawled out on your bed, shirtless, his tan skin glowing from the rising sun. He was watching some game on TV, beer in hand, occasionally cheering or grumbling at a play. You caught yourself staring, a smile creeping onto your lips. He looked so boyish, so him, and maybe it was the fact that you were ovulating but you'd never wanted to jump his bones more than now.

"Hamzah, can you pass me my hair tie?" you called out, fingers working through one side of your hair. You knew he wasn't the best at finding things. You recalled last week when he called you because he thought he lost his phone. Still, you held out hope.

"Yeah, sure, babe," he replied, setting his beer down on the coffee table as his eyes darted back to the screen for one last glance at the game.

It took longer than you expected. You'd braided most of your hair by the time you heard him walking back into the room. Glancing down at the delicately patterned, Brandy Melville boxer shorts you'd been lounging in, you thought about what you might wear for the day—though, with Hamzah looking the way he did, staying in seemed like the best option.

"Found it!" he announced, holding up the hair tie like a trophy. His grin was as silly as ever. "Sorry, kinda forgot what hair ties were for a sec."

You laugh, thinking this is exactly why you fell in love with him. "Thanks, even if it did take you forever," you teased, your eyes meeting his in the mirror.

He stood behind you now, his hands naturally finding their way to your shoulders. His thumbs began to knead the curve of your neck, and you felt yourself melting under his touch. His reflection in the mirror was all confidence and warmth. Sometimes his eyes were a pool you couldn't help but drown in.

"So... whose braids are these for? Who you tryna impress, missy?" He holds your head as he plants a kiss on the very top of it, gentle and sweet.

"Nobody," you replied with a shrug, trying to keep your blushing smile to a minimum, "Maybe you. Maybe not."

The crimson of your cheeks only made him want to kiss you more. "Mm... is that so?," he murmured, his lips brushing against the crown of your head again.

You finished tying off the braid, inspecting the finished product in the mirror. The braids were messy, loose in places, but you liked them that way. Hamzah seemed to, too. His gaze lingered on you, his pupils dark and wide.

"You're so beautiful," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. His words sent a warmth spreading through your core, and before you could respond, he tugged you to your feet, his lips meeting yours.

The kiss was sweet and unhurried, his hum of contentment vibrating against your lips. Tasting a tinge of cherry flavor, he pulled back just enough to murmur, "Fuckin' love that chapstick you use, angel."

You smiled, leaning into him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. "Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm," he muttered, his hands cradling your face now. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger his hands were. You rubbed your thighs together at the thought of them pumping deep inside you. "Taste so sweet," he added, his voice low and full of lust.

His thumbs brushed your cheekbones, his gaze holding yours with a quiet intensity. Slowly, his lips found yours again, deeper this time, with more hunger. His hands drifted, fingers tracing a line down your shoulders, brushing the thin fabric of your button up shirt. The fabric slipped down effortlessly, pooling at your waist, revealing nothing underneath.

"Jesus Christ," he murmured, breathless, against your lips, looking down at your chest. His voice soft and teasing, "M'so lucky. All this belongs to me."

You rolled your eyes and laughed, though it came out more like a breath, as his hands moved to the hem of your shorts, sliding them down in one smooth motion. His touch was firm and gentle in all the right places.

"Hamzah," you whispered like a prayer, your voice caught between a laugh and something softer, your hands resting on his chest.

"Hmm?" he responded, his eyes lifting to meet yours again.

"Tell me what you need, baby" he asked, your cheeks heating under his gaze.

You feel yourself melt, knees wanting to buckle. "Want you to fuck me,” you pleaded. Your panties were a pool by now— soaked from just a simple kiss. But that was Hamzah. You ached for him without even knowing. He pulled you closer, one hand firm on your waist and the other squeezing the curve of your ass.

"Mm-hm," He hums against your neck, sucking and kissing every spot from your jaw to your collarbone. "M'gonna fuck you so good" he added. A whimper falls out of you, earning a quiet moan from him. He was soon lifting you onto the bed, his touch firm yet impossibly gentle, like you were something he craved of devouring.

Confused, you sit up with your elbows holding you up, "Wanna taste you first, though," For a second you forget you're completely naked, until you watch as his eyes drag down your entire body, holding his gaze at your tits.

He's standing in front of you so you have to look up as you speak. "You sure? I can-" He asks.

His hard-on is apparent in front of you, it's stiff and the tip is about to peek out from the top of his boxers. "M'sure," You reach out one hand to palm him, slowly, but firm. "I really want it," you're teasing, and you know that he'll punish you for it later, but the thought only makes the hunger more insatiable.

You watch as he throws his head back, lips quivering with need. "Want it so bad, Hamzah," you whine, eyes stuck on his reaction.

Low whimpers escape him with every touch and squeeze. "Can I?" His reddened tip is peeking out and you watch as it begins to dampen his boxers with precum.

"Yes, yes, God, yes" his begs are hurried as he looks down at you. Your eyes lock before you push down his boxers, his cock springing out. Behind him, he holds his hands together, keeping him from losing all control and just grabbing you by the braids as he fucks your mouth.

He shakes the thought, looking down at you as you slowly spit a drool of saliva from your mouth onto his dick. Your hand wraps itself around the base of his cock, pumping up and down. Still looking up to him, you focus on the tip, squeezing until it's swelled up and leaking.

"Baby..." he grunts, lightly pushing your head forward with one hand.

You hum with curiosity, "Yeah?" The look in your big, brown eyes makes him want to cum on the spot.

"M-mouth, please baby.." He grunts out his request, lightly grabbing a handful of your hair in his fist. You spit on your hand this time before wrapping it back on his cock. You lower your head, kissing his tip with your wet lips before swallowing him whole. Every whine and whimper from him makes you hum with pleasure and the rubbing of your thighs has you craving release. Hamzah's hands have found a permanent home behind your head, pushing you further down his cock with each thrust.

"Mm-hm.... Fuck...." He whines as his eyes roll behind his head, the sight below him being overwhelming. He loves you exactly like this: fucked out and gagging for his cock.

"S'good, angel," he praises. Your mouth is warm and full of him, his tip often hitting the back of your throat. His movements have picked up the pace, using both hands to make you swallow his cock until you gag. It hurt so good and you thought maybe this is how you'd like to spend the rest of your life: making Hamzah cum with your mouth everyday.

He breathes out, "Fuck-" A quivering grunt follows, "M'cumming-" You hum in response, rubbing your clit at the thought. Your eyes hit the back your head as he thrusts into your throat one last time. You're brought back to life when he pulls out, strings of saliva sticking to your tongue and his tip. He grunts, pumping his cock until his cum spills on your tits. You still open your mouth to try to catch some on your tongue.

He reaches down to hold your face, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. "Fuck, I love you," he sighs out. You close your eyes, too out of breath to say anything. You hum and then lick your lips, trying to taste him.

He kisses your forehead this time, "Good girl," His lips reach for yours as he lays you down on the bed, dragging his hand down your cheek to your neck. He kneels at the edge of the bed in front of you, eyes wandering your exposed body. You hold yourself up with your elbows to lock eyes with him and suddenly you realize he's looking at your dripping cunt.

"Please..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, earning a low grunt from him, his hands slipping down to caress your thighs. Your core was aching at this point, pulsing for touch— his touch.

"Look at you," His hands spread your legs open, holding them in place.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as his hands slid up the bare skin of your legs, his touch as light as a whisper. His lips followed, pressing tender kisses along the inside of your thighs, each one sending a wave of warmth coursing through you. He paused to glance up at you, his eyes soft and full of adoration.

"So beautiful," he murmured, the words so quiet they almost disappeared into the space between you. "So good for me," he added. His hands spread your thighs wider, his thumbs gently stroking your skin, and then he leaned in, dripping a pool of his saliva onto your clit.

The first touch of his tongue was slow and deliberate, coaxing low whimpers out of you. His movements were careful as if he were savoring every taste. You gasped, your fingers instinctively tangling in his curls, and he hummed against you, the sound low and content.

"Fuck," you breathed, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. He glanced up at you, his lips glistening.

"Taste so good," he said softly, his voice like a balm. His tongue moved with unhurried precision, tracing gentle circles that sent sparks of ecstasy coursing through you. He was teasing, excruciatingly gentle. His hands reached to massage your breast, focusing specifically on your nipples— hard and perked up. Unwillingly, your back arched as every part of you felt on fire.

Your breaths grew shallow, your body arching toward him as he found a rhythm that made everything else fade away.

Your body perched up when he suddenly stopped.

Hamzah pulled back suddenly, his lips glistening, his breath heavy as it ghosted over your skin. The absence of his touch was agonizing, and you squirmed under him, the ache in your core sharpening with every passing second. His hands, still gripping your thighs, tightened possessively, his fingers pressing into your skin like he needed to anchor himself.

"W-why?," you breathed, your voice trembling, unsure if it was from desperation or frustration.

He tilted his head up, his dark eyes locking onto yours. They were molten, a smoldering mix of desire and something deeper. His gaze burned with an intensity that made your stomach flip.

"Can't cum yet, baby," His voice was low, rough, and dripping with authority. He leaned forward suddenly, his body pressing into yours, forcing you to feel the weight of him. His hands slid up your thighs, gripping them firmly before pulling you closer, his strength undeniable yet controlled.

"Look at you," he growled, his eyes raking over you for the millionth time. His hands roughly roamed your entire body— your hips then your thighs and your ass.

Your eyelids feel heavy, dazed with anticipation for some sort of release. Looking up at him felt like torture— his face and toned stomach followed by his already hard cock springing close to his stomach. Using one hand, he grabbed your wrists, interlocking your fingers with his, his grip firm but not painful. The other hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up so you couldn't look anywhere but at him. His lips hovered over yours, so close, before locking them with yours.

"Wanna feel you," he pleaded, his voice a rasp against your skin. "Can I?"

You nodded, your body trembling beneath him, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. His grip on your jaw softened just slightly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as his eyes softened, just for a moment, before pushing his thumb past your lips.

You instinctively suction your lips around it, swirling your tongue against his thumb, eyes wide and locked with his.

You let go of it with a pop, coaxing a hum out of him. "You're gonna kill me, baby," he murmured, his voice low, almost vulnerable before the edge crept back in. "Gonna take it good, okay?"

"Yes," you whispered, barely recognizing your own voice.

His lips crashed into yours then, the kiss rough and claiming, his teeth grazing your lip in a way that made you gasp. He took advantage of the sound, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tangling with yours. All the while, his knee was pressing down on your cunt, reveling in the sensation.

Hamzah's free hand roamed down your body, gripping your waist before sliding up to cup your breast. His touch was firm, possessive, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple in a way that had your back arching against him.

"Hamzah...." you whimper, breathless, his lips leaving yours to trail down your neck, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin there. You whimpered, your body betraying you as you arched again, desperate for more.

His breath falters and he thinks that saying his name like that was probably going to be the death of him. His lips grazed your collarbone before he kissed it gently.

You shut your eyes, feeling like yourself throb against him. His hand released yours, but only so he could grab your hips, pulling you flush against him.

"Fuck me, please," you choked out, your voice trembling, tears pricking at your eyes—not from pain but from the sheer intensity of him.

He grunted, his lips capturing yours again, rough but full of a love so fierce it stole your breath. It was overwhelmingly all-consuming and sweet.

Hamzah's lips pressed against yours, stealing your breath with a kiss that was deep and consuming, a delicate balance of control and reverence. His hands slid down your body, rough and demanding, gripping your waist firmly before moving to your hips. His touch left a trail of fire in its wake, a stark contrast to the tenderness in his gaze.

"You're so perfect for me," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with need. His hands moved lower, squeezing your ass with deliberate roughness, making you gasp and arch into him. "Every inch of you."

He didn't wait for a response, tilting your head back to kiss down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he sucked gently at the sensitive spot just beneath your jaw. One hand slid up to your breast, palming it firmly, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple in a way that made your breath hitch.

"You take everything so well," he said, his voice low and rough in your ear as his hand kneaded your breast. "So good for me."

You whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips continued their descent, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your chest. When he took one of your nipples into his mouth, you cried out, your body arching into him as his hand moved to squeeze your other breast.

"Hamzah—" His name came out as a broken plea, and he chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin before pulling away.

"I've got you," he promised, his hands sliding back down to grip your thighs, pulling you closer to him with a force that made you feel the raw strength in his body. "You don't have to do anything but feel me."

He spread your legs wider, his rough palms gliding over your thighs before delivering a sharp smack to the soft flesh, just enough to make you gasp. “That’s it,” he said, his voice dripping with approval as his hands soothed the sting. “So responsive for me.”

He pressed into you with slow, deliberate movements, watching every flicker of emotion on your face. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing and kneading, his touch leaving no part of you untouched.

"Feel so fuckin’ warm," he growled, his voice low and possessive. "So beautiful. So perfect." He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that made you cry out, his hands tightening on your hips to hold you in place.

You nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity as he stretched you out. You quietly cursed every time he hit that spot deep inside you. He leaned down to kiss them away, his lips brushing against your cheeks. "Doing so well, angel," he said, his voice softening for a moment. "Taking me so perfectly."

His hands gripped your ass again, pulling you closer as he moved faster, his head rolled back. You tried to keep your eyes open, watching him as he used one hand to rub your cunt. You cried out, back arching, as you held onto his wrists for stability. already being on the edge, you felt like cumming any moment now.

"Hamzah— gonna cum-" you pleaded, trying to hold on for a little longer. He felt you tighten around him, slipping in and out of you quicker with every second.

"Cum for me, angel," He begged, groaning. You feel yourself spilling over the edge, his name tearing from your lips, your body trembling beneath him as he held you through it, his voice low and soothing. He followed short after, shooting spurts of come in you.

"Good girl," he murmured, his lips pressing against your forehead as he followed, his body shuddering as he buried his face in your neck. "So, so good for me."

Hamzah didn't pull away immediately. His body stayed pressed close to yours, his breathing ragged but already evening out. His hand, which had gripped you so firmly moments ago, softened, his thumb brushing lazily over your hip in soothing circles. He pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before letting his forehead rest against yours, his warm breath fanning across your skin.

Neither of you spoke for a while. The silence wasn't awkward but comforting, filled with the quiet intimacy that only comes with knowing someone completely. His hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your flushed skin.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your lips curving into a small, tired smile. "Mhm," you murmured, your voice still breathless. "Just sleepy."

A small smirk tugged at his lips, and he kissed your forehead before reluctantly rolling off you. He reached down, grabbing the blanket that had been shoved to the side, and draped it over both of you. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

Hamzah buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. "You smell like me," he murmured, his voice low and full of satisfaction.

You chuckled softly, turning your head slightly to glance at him. Sometimes he said things that made you want to marry him. "Good," you smile. "I like smelling like you."

There was a beat of silence. "I love you.” he said simply, his hand slipping under the blanket to rest on your stomach.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your breathing mingling with his, and you were just beginning to drift off when you felt a light pressure at the foot of the bed.

You opened your eyes just in time to see one of Hamzah's cats—Red—jump up onto the bed. She made a beeline for you, circling a few times before curling up at your feet.

Hamzah chuckled softly, his chest vibrating against your back. "Here comes trouble," he teased, his voice warm and affectionate.

As if on cue, his other cat, Blue, hopped up onto the bed as well. Unlike Red, Blue didn't hesitate to make himself comfortable right on Hamzah's chest, his purring loud and insistent.

"Seriously, Blue?" Hamzah groaned, though he didn't sound annoyed. He scratched behind the cat's ears, earning an even louder purr. "You couldn't wait, huh?"

You laughed softly, reaching down to stroke Red's silky fur. "I think they were feeling left out."

Hamzah sighed dramatically, though the small smile on his lips gave him away. "Guess I have no choice but to share you now," he said, his voice teasing.

Blue, clearly content, flopped onto his side, his tail flicking against Hamzah's arm. Red stretched out, her paws pressing lightly against your legs as she settled into her spot.

Hamzah's hand found yours under the blanket, his fingers intertwining with yours as he rested his chin on your shoulder. "Y'know...," he said softly, his tone carrying a hint of suspicious humor.

"What?," you replied, leaning back into him as Red purred softly at your feet. You tried to contain your smile— knowing that when he talked with this tone he was either about to say the most out of pocket shit or tell you something really sweet.

Hamzah kissed your shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment before he rested his head against yours. "It's barely 1 p.m...," he murmured, his voice full of quiet affection. "Wanna go again, angel?"

—————————————————————————

a/n: thank you for reading! im so sorry for the wait i kinda ended up hating everything i wrote like halfway through aaaanddd i did not proofread this bc reading my own writing makes me cringe so i apologize for any grammar mistakes lol. HOPE U LOVE IT or u might hate it idk❤️

let me know what you think or any ideas for the future! im thinking some yellowjackets smut idkidk😏

#hamzah fic #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzahsmut #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah x y/n #hamzah fluff

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heeseung64 · 15 days ago

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★彡ーROADTRIP!

the tropes and love language of enha as you and your cozy friends plan a three day long road-trip.

friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff! confession, jealousy and all that jazz.

3 part series.

taglist: open

★彡ーHEESEUNG AND JAY!

𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨…

• quiet in the mornings,

he's a lil' grumpy that he has to wake up at the crack of dawn to start the road-trip, but at least he's not driving- and- more importantly, you're sitting next to him. you bring him peace that can never be broken. neither of you are the perfect choice to mess with in the morning, so being idle and appreciating the silence made him much more giddy with you, which wreaked chaos and unbelievable anxiety in his mind. though his nerves are unseen, he hesitantly shares his earphones with you, and with the way you compliment his hazy playlist, it made his heart flutter, starting his morning off with a burning engine. his first words in the whole trip was only to you: "this song reminds me of you." he whispered, taking out the earbud out your ear before he puts it back in. wave to earth, cute.

more below。

• would never let you help,

lee heeseung himself doesn't believe in help, and his walls of pride were too high to even consider a pretty girl like you to help him with something he could impress you with. but the gas in the airbnb isn't lighting up, and he keeps complaining he's getting colder by the minute. you watch him, and eventually you yank off whatever is occupied in his hands. "i don't-" "i'm cold too." you stop his words before helping him. you finish the job for him, yet he doesn't say thank you, he walks off, annoyed and huffy.

eventually in the night, he whispers a sorry, pulling you aside as you watch the bonfire light against your friends' faces afar. what he gives you is his hoodie, putting it on you before tucking in your hair as he warns you: "don't take it off, i don't want you being cold. m'kay?" he tries to hide his smile, shrugging off his nerves until he's kept up awake at the thought of you being snuggly under his own scent.

was it his way of being sorry? you wonder, at this point you knew the boy enough to know that he liked you- maybe you're just waiting for him to show it.

• quiet observer, loud messages,

"did i do something to piss you off, hee?" are the words for heeseung to realise that you were quick on his tail. his eyes were practically stuck on you, waiting that'd you eventually talk or interact with him- praying-even; that you'd be just as stickily close to him like your other skin-ship friendships this night. but those words had broke sense to him that maybe his actions came out as aloof.

"i.. just wanted you to notice me." he whispers, blurting out his confession in a series of tiny words. his cold demeanour wasn't so cold on his cheeks, and his watery eyes and red ears worsened when you kissed him between his cheek and the corner of his lips. "if you wanted some love, always ask from now on." you say back, and he nods, flustered. his only regret was to beg for you to kiss right where his lips were. the rest of the trip was glee to heeseung, smiling uncontrollably, bantering with the guys, and later on asking to be more physical, cuddling you, playing with your hair and eventually being warm and fuzzy on your neck, sweet. he doesn't know what you and him are after that, but he's so surely determined to make you his.

𝘫𝘢𝘺…

• a man of service,

handsy is an understatement. you know how close you guys are regardless of the trip but, with a day so free and unrestricted, he rests his hands on your thighs like its no problem, not to mention he made you sit in the front with him as he drove. and likewise, he recognises your wisdom than others- so its best to have you with him as he makes every itinerary and packing decision. inseparable, you call it. love, the others know it. he'd be the first to know if you're sleepy or un-energetic amongst the group, and he'd be first to offer you food and little snacks as you guys visited sites and other places.

"i'm not hungry." you'd lie, and jay could see right through it. "say ahh!" he'd jokingly force you, and he'd hold you down to feed you anything until you wouldn't complain. "next time just ask if you wanted me to do feed you." since then, the others labelled any interaction between you as 'couple's quarrelling', and as much as it bothered you, you could see jay's demeanour unshaken by this.

"come with me to the nearest grocery store." he'd pull you up to keep him company, buying your favourite things even when you don't even say it. "how many do you want, y/n?" he'd ask, seriously. and when you say you don't want them, he'd chuck it in the cart anyway. you find that he's often getting others their favourite things, and doing favours for them as his love language, so nothing is different towards you.. right? you start to believe otherwise when he starts prepping the first night dinner, feeding you food as he cooks, only supplying you with the generous meats and the better sauces, while the remains end up with him or the younger friends. he'd make you sit on a stool, humming to the music setup adjacent to the kitchen as you guys were isolated from the others setting up their rooms and games. jay would only make you stay with him, keeping his peace intact when you were around, and if you left, he'd find you again to ask for help in the kitchen- when all you do is let him feed you. "how's it taste?" he asks, looking down into your eyes before licking his thumb and wiping the little stain off your lips. "tastes.. like love in a plate." you reply, smiling sweet as he backs away, smiling to himself. "good."

• not satisfied til' you are,

jay was not happy when you received a few cuts and scratches after scraping your hands on the rocky coral by the third day of the trip. the beach was relaxing, yet his world had sirens blasting with his eyes alert constantly watching and looking out for you- not to mention how good you looked. he pretty much made it clear that if someone were first to approach you, it would be their last.

though he may not be the one to softly tell you that he cares, he shows it. "don't be a stupid idiot and do that again." he warns as he wraps your hand, and when he sees your doe eyes and watery rims reflect against him he falters, securing your wound with a little peck as he hides away his blush- making sure know one else saw what he did.

"there, better?" he asks, and you nod, wrapping your hands around his arm. you stuck by him like glue, and he didn't mind- infact, this was the most you've been so quiet and so yearning for him- so he was ecstatic, off his head, especially when he started talking back to the guys. later in the night you took your courage to approach his room in the cabin, knocking on his door.

"jjong." you call his nickname, and just by the knock he instantly takes you in, breathy as he'd realised he'd taken you in too quickly and awkwardly. "y-you called?" he asks, his hair half wet as he had finished his shower. "i think i like you." you boldly confess over your fumble of words. jay wildly smiles, poking his tongue in his cheek as he looks around the room, avoiding your eyes as you stand there, meek. "you do?" were the first words he responded to you. when you nodded, it was over; his hands were all over you. no one questioned why you weren't in your room that night, instead they mentally cheered that you magically woke up in jay's.

SUNGHOON AND JAKE! ★>>

perm tags:

@nikiswifiee @ancnymcnzjy @ja4hyvn @17ericas

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sp00kymulderr · 3 months ago

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it might be nice

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. FEELINGS. Angst. love. just...feelings. Mention of f receiving oral, reader is a not a us-citizen (visa stuff), commitment and intimacy issues all round, did I mentioned feelings? This just kinda started writing itself, i appreciate there isn't enough Dieter in it but it is what it is. Unedited, unbeta'd.

Words: 1.1k

Summary: It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now.

"We could get married"

You look up from your book, drawn back from your far away to the sound of his voice. Dieter is looking at you expectantly.

Your eyes widen as you process the four words that just left his mouth.

"Dee, we…why would we…" You trail off, drawing your legs up and out of his lap, his thumb presses down on the arch of your foot once more before he lets it go.

The conversation had moved on hours ago. Over takeout you'd mentioned trepidation over being able to stay in the country, struggling with your visa and having no sponsorship since you couldn't seem to get a fucking job right now.

Dieter had listened, sympathised, and then eaten you out for dessert just to make you feel better about your situation.

It helped. He'd been pretty mediocre but extremely enthusiastic when you'd met, but now you'd taught him some tricks he knew just how to turn your mind off for a moment.

The conversation was finished the moment he put his mouth on you, or so you thought. He could help you pay for an extension but he wasn't influential or wealthy enough to sway the embassy into letting you stay longer.

"I'd bribe the fuck out of them if I could, you know that"

You did know that. You knew he'd do anything for you. He'd been saying it since the day he met you, once famous (more like infamous) movie star turned rehabilitated recluse with no one willing to be by his side until that day.

He'd met you in a Dennys, of all places. 3am waffles served to his lonely little corner booth because he found it hard to sleep these days, and he got hungry at random times. You took the late shifts because they paid the best, and you could be available in the day for calls from your agent that never came.

It hadn't been sexual at first. It hadn't been anything but a displaced, alone man and an exhausted, untethered waitress sitting in a booth and sharing free fries because chef made too many and they'd only go to waste. It had been whispered giggles, and sharing ridiculous Hollywood horror stories, and 'same time tomorrow' over and over again.

No one in LA had made you laugh. Not until you met him.

Dieter hadn't heard genuine laughter in years. Now he got to hear it every night.

Back in the now, you shake your head. He's being silly. He's trying to make you laugh again.

"Don't be stupid" You playfully shove his shoulder with your foot, but his face falls into a frown, and you feel a little crack in your heart at the sight. You watch as he stands, rubbing fingers across his forearm and muttering a little 'Stupid, yeah'. The tremor you feel inside you is nameless, and you will it to remain that way.

In the last six months of your knowing each other, there have been times when you've felt this same feeling. An ache at the thought that he could be anything other than happy. You'd long since left Dennys for the upward trajectory of the Cheesecake Factory but still when the late shift rolls around you feel a tug at your lips and a name on them, even when you'd seen him only hours before.

You're not an item, that's the thing. You're not a couple. Neither of you have ever said the words outright, no 'I want to be with you', 'I want to be yours'. Not to each other, at least.

It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now. It's enough, it's enough, it's enough. Enough that he will sit up all night long and read lines with you again and again and again. Enough that he tells you not to come over on his bad days but you do anyway, and hold him while he cries.

It's enough to be just this. Because more would only make it hurt more when he relapses, when you have to leave.

When you have to leave…

You close your book, set it down on the table that's strewn with pages for your latest audition. Last night he'd coached you through every single line, and then told you with passion just how perfect you were. You can hear him in the kitchen, and you know he's making himself a decaf latte with way too much caramel syrup and a dash of the kitkat sprinkles because that's what he always makes when he might be starting to crave something else.

That's how you know he wasn't making a joke. That's how you know your hurt his feelings. That and every look he's ever given you, every smile that lights up his eyes that's only been for you. That and the way his hands never stray far from you, always grounding himself with the touch of your skin to his.

"Dee…" You pad up to him slowly, watch as he tenses at your presence. Another prickle in your chest, you can't let him think you don't feel...what it is that you feel.

"Would it be so bad?" He asks without turning, the tinge of dejection in his tone making you reach out. "I'd treat you good, you know. We wouldn't even have to live together or anything…it can just be a way for you to stay. That's all. I didn't think it would be so bad for you"

God, you've had him right in your grasp this whole time. The two of you dancing around your feelings all because of fears you didn't even fully realise you had til now.

"I'd- I wouldn't even tell anyone you were my wife, if you didn't want me to. I wouldn't expect anything from it. I just…fuck,"

You turn him around with a pull to his arm, shake your head and bite back something hopeful and beautiful that inches up your throat,

"I don't want you to go"

Your arms are around his middle, a stifled sob as you bury your face against the soft, worn fabric of his favourite t-shirt - your favourite by extension because everything he loves you love too. He smells like him.

You breathe him in.

He smells like home.

You look up at him and smile. Not the pretty smile you give to casting agents - the one that makes you look perfect - but the big, happy, loving one he saw the very first night you two met in that Dennys at three in the morning on a random Tuesday. The one he gives you back is the same; he's smiled a thousand times on camera, in films and press appearances and award shows. No one else but you has ever seen this smile.

You take a deep breath. The crack in your heart starts in fusing back together.

"We could get married"

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #probably ooc Dieter but I don't care ily soft caring scared sober Dieter #idk what this is sorrry

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turtleblogatlast · 1 year ago

Text

Leo frowns at his phone.

Or more specifically, at the test on his phone.

Around him, he hears the sound of his brothers tapping their own devices, much faster than he is. Looking up just makes Leo feel worse about his own progress - or lack-thereof.

Mikey’s the fastest, speeding through the test like nobody’s business. He’d been the one to make them all do this stupid test in the first place, so it makes sense that he’s having a blast.

Raph’s slower than Mikey is, but he’s still clearly answering the questions at a steady pace. Sometimes he looks unsure, but he powers through anyway.

Donnie often looks frustrated, which relieves Leo somewhat because at least someone is struggling like him. But that “struggle” isn’t nearly as big as his own, considering that Donnie is answering about as fast as Raph is.

Leo turns his gaze back down to his own test. He’s still near the beginning, he thinks.

He’d put the same answer for the past seven questions - the middle of the road answer, neither a “yes” or a “no.” Then, whenever he does come across one that is more one direction than the other, he second guesses himself and restarts the test!

Sure, there are a few he could definitely give a yes or a no to, but…never the “strongly agree” or “strongly disagree” that the test seemed to want from him.

He eyes his twin sitting nearby, the softshell absorbed in the test. Maybe Leo should copy what Donnie put for some of these…

“DONE!” Mikey’s shout makes Leo freeze in place just as he started to lean over.

“What?” Donnie squawks, “No way you’re already finished, you must’ve been cheating!”

“It’s a personality test, Dee!” Mikey stuck his tongue out, “You can’t cheat at those!”

…

Leo settles back into his seat.

Ignoring Donnie’s mutterings about how it was “just because it’s not an academic test” that he didn’t finish first, Raph smiles encouragingly at Mikey.

“Hey, good job! So what’d you get, Mike?”

Mikey looks back down at his test, reading aloud, “Says that I got the “Campaigner”!”

“What’s that mean?” Leo asks, his phone screen going dark.

“Apparently, I’m an “enthusiastic, creative, and sociable free-spirit”.” Mikey reads, smiling at them, “You think it fits?”

“Oh, to a T, bro!” Leo laughs, giving Mikey a thumbs up, making Mikey’s smile grow larger.

Inside, Leo was feeling a lot more mixed about this. He has no idea how Mikey knew himself so well. Maybe Donnie was right and Mikey did cheat, because how could he answer those questions so easily?

Leo’s phone burns in his hand. He keeps it locked.

“Wow, that really is you.” Raph says, his eyes flitting back and forth between his own test and Mikey, “Do you think it fits?”

“I guess? It’s fun to see at least!” Mikey shrugs with a grin.

“Hold on, I think…” Raph makes a noise of satisfaction, “Okay, done!”

“Sigh, now I’m relegated to the straggler group.” Donnie grumbles, his thumbs moving faster as he tries rushing through the questions.

“Ooh, what’d you get Raph?” Mikey asks, practically bouncing in curiosity.

“Says, uh…I got something called the “Consul”?” He squints his eyes to read more, “Uh, “caring, social, and community-minded.””

“Sounds about right to me.” Leo nods. Can’t be more “community-minded” than being a hero.

“Yeah, no one’s more caring than you, Raphie!” Mikey says, moving to lean across Raph’s shell.

“You do put the community in mind, that’s for sure.” Donnie states, not looking up.

Raph chuckles, a bit embarrassed, “Aw, thanks. It’s just some test, but it feels kinda good to hear that.”

Just a test. Right.

Leo unlocks his screen.

The test stares back at him.

Right. Okay. He can do this. He can.

The screen ends up going dark again.

Frustration builds up in Leo. Was he even halfway done with the test? At this rate, soon even Donnie will-

“FINISHED.”

Leo unlocks his phone.

“What’d you get, DonTon?” Leo asks as his thumb taps the top right of the screen.

Donnie puffs up proudly, a self sure grin on his face, “I got the result “Logician” which states that I, obviously, am an “innovative inventor with a thirst for knowledge.” Truly could not have described me better, if I do say so myself.”

“It is pretty accurate.” Raph agrees with a nod, “Even calls you an inventor, so extra accurate.”

“Super accurate.” Mikey jumps in, eyes shining.

“Yes, yes, almost like reading my own character synopsis.” Donnie’s grin had not dwindled since the word “innovative” had left his mouth.

Leo just nods along, eyes on his own screen as he skims the words. “Yeah, kinda creepy how close it got. Could have called you a nerd for extra accuracy, though.”

Donnie turns to him, eyes narrowing, “Have you even finished your test? I can think of a few words that’d describe you fairly well.”

“Test-y, huh?”

Before Donnie can strangle Leo, Raph cuts in.

“Ok, ok, calm it down, guys.” He rolls his eyes before turning to Leo. “But really, you’re not done yet?”

“Leo’s taking this self reflection seriously.” Mikey sports a faux intellectual expression as he gives a jokingly serious nod. “Maybe we all should’ve taken our time.”

“Says the one who sped through the whole thing in a record time.” Donnie mutters.

Leo waves them all off, “Nah, I finished it ages ago.”

He grins when Donnie immediately shoots him a suspicious glare. “Oh, you did, did you? Then what could you have possibly gotten, Nardo?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Leo clears his throat, “Neon Leon just so happens to be an “Entertainer.””

“Ah. That confirms it. This test is meaningless.” Donnie drones.

“Hey-“

“What’s an Entertainer like?” Mikey asks with a tilt of his head, still hanging off of Raph’s shell.

“Glad you asked, Miguel!” Leo exclaims, “It says that “life is never boring” around yours truly~”

He emphasizes this “result” of his by waving his phone with said “result” on screen.

It’s just an image he found of his chosen personality result, but they don’t need to know that.

Raph nods slowly, “Well, I guess that’s true…”

“”Never boring” is one way to put it.” Donnie hums.

“You are pretty fun, Leo!” Mikey says emphatically, because he’s great like that.

“Thank you, thank you, life of the party, right here.” Leo grins, pointing both thumbs at himself.

He’s careful not to go too overboard with it, or else it might tip someone off.

Not that it…really matters. It’s just a test. Like Raph said.

As the topic around him shifts to something else, jumping away from this brief activity as fast as any other among them, Leo finds himself unlocking his phone and pulling up the test again.

Unanswered questions stare at him. He knows what answers Lou Jitsu would pick. He knows what answers Jupiter Jim would pick. Hell, he knows exactly what answers his brothers would pick.

He doesn’t know what answers Leonardo would pick.

Leo stares at the test for a second longer, before he exits the site and throws himself into the conversation happening around him.

It’s just a stupid test, nothing to worry about.

Just a test…

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt headcanons #rise leo #could not ignore this idea that hit my brain haha #if you disagree with me on what personality types I gave the boys that’s fine tbh #picked mbti since it was the first one I thought of but again it like most of these tests isn’t super worth putting stock into #these tests are kinda dumb anyway but they’re fun to take #for some #anyway I love thinking about Leo struggling with his sense of identity #and in turn struggling with what is a persona and what is HIM #how much is a mask how much is built from taking traits from others how much is real how much is fake #even he doesn’t know #protagonist is probably a good choice for leo but I’m also tied to him secretly being the introverted type as well so #bit more of an ambivert maybe #he’s got aspects of a lot of them hence the difficulty answering questions #well most of his difficulty comes from an uncertainty of who he really is #again what is him and what is his mask #or masks #what even is his true self if his self is someone he’s never bothered to meet #a lot of the little details of his personality - the parts of him that we see peek out throughout the series and often on his own -#- they align with personality types that you would never think of when looking at him and his masks at face value #that’s not to say it’s all masks - he’s a goofy guy at his core - but he’s more than he lets on and we’re made privy to that in subtle ways #though fr protagonist is prob Leo’s most likely result

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starlightsreigns · 3 months ago

Text

bloodline | the bloodline

summary ⇢ gianna feels like the shinest toy in the middle of a classroom with everyone eyeing it. she attracts all the interest when she walks into the room, and now it's causing chaos. But, chaos is so fun and it's only the beginning. word count ⇢ 10.1k tags ⇢ language, brief smut

note ⇢ she for the whole team — twins. but I started writing this and over time the main love interest kept changing as the story developed hahah. I'm just a girl and I love every version of the bloodline x

“i ain't lookin' for my one true love, yeah, that ship sailed away”

Gianna rubs her eyes trying to mask the exhaustion written all over her face. she forces a smile as the photographer lifts his camera towards her. the flashes don’t help with the headache that’s pounding through her skull. if anything, she wants to be in bed with her comfort movie and a pile of food — but of course, work always comes first.

“c’mon, Gigi, that’s the best you got?” a familiar voice booms through the room.

solo stands in the doorway of the room, a grin on his face because he knows he’s irritating her. “damn, my bad.” he raises his hand when she glares in his direction. “don’t be like that.”

eighteen years of knowing someone makes you immune to their antics. Gianna and Solo have been best friends since fifth grade; attending the same schools in California since kindergarten, but something changed in their last year of elementary school that brought them together – that something being their teacher sitting them beside each other. Their similar loud nature and her crush on his older brothers made their friendship blossom over the years. She was a cheerleader in high school, and he followed his brothers and cousin in being a football player. They spent every waking moment together, took the same classes, made the same jokes, and got close to each other’s family.

Graduation hit them like a ton of bricks – they spent 13 years always in the same state and school, and now that had to change. Neither one of them understood how much that would hurt. While he stayed in Sacramento for a while and then went on to North Dakota, Gianna moved across the country to Florida. They’ve always been committed to their friendship, which meant every holiday was spent in California and every school vacation was divided between there and Florida. For four years, they made it work through the school work, the various jobs, and the multiple relationships that found their friendship a little too high maintenance – but it only had to matter to them.

Gianna finished college, and with the push of Solo’s older brother, Jimmy and Jey convinced her to try out for WWE. It was always a pipe dream. They came from a wrestling family, the most prominent one at that, and she fell in love with it because of them. Gianna couldn’t imagine making it in the business, but the twins refused to let up. They’d take her to the performance center whenever they were in town until she was convinced she could do this. She trained and prepped until her body couldn’t take it anymore.

The distance came. Their friendship was harder to balance once she joined the main roster years later. Once he joined WWE, their schedules were even more of a mess, but again, if they could survive six years across the country from each other, they could survive the fucking apocalypse – and yeah, they survived the apocalypse to be on the same show now…

Gianna glances at Solo again. Usually, she’d smile at his comment, but any facial movements only exacerbate the growing pains in her body. And he could see it from where she stood. The way her face could barely hold a scowl and the glint in her eyes was gone – she was almost lifeless.

“You hungry?” He asks softly, seeing the way she was trying to hold it together.

After a slow nod, Solo gives her a thumbs-up and quickly disappears from the doorway. The rest of the photoshoot feels like a million years until she’s set free. Gianna gathers her stuff, shuffling through the hallway, bombarded by all the noise the backstage area unfortunately brings.

“Gianna, baby, you okay?” Naomi calls out where she sits in a makeup chair.

Gianna stops beside her, holding onto the arm of the chair, “No, I feel like absolute shit.” She holds onto her forehead, trying to steady the spinning room. Naomi holds onto her arm. “I think I just need to sit for a little bit.”

“You need me to walk you back there?” Naomi’s voice fills with worry. “Or, lemme call Jimmy.”

“Nah, I’m good girl, I can make it.”

Solo comes from behind her, seeing the look of concern on Naomi’s face, “Hey, you good?” He’s holding a plate of food from catering. “C’mon, lemme take you back to med.”

Naomi smiles at her brother-in-law before she meets eyes with Gianna, “text me, ‘kay?”

With a small hum, Gianna lets Solo lead her back to medical. She can barely remember the walk or anything that Solo says to her. To be truthful, she can’t remember anything from before she blacks out and wakes up hours later in confusion.

The world feels hazy as she takes a deep breath. The room is dim while the TV screen plays the current match. Gianna groans, realizing she passed out. From beside her, someone chuckles and Gianna groans louder when she knows exactly who it is.

“Of course, you’re still here,” she smiles softly as she looks over at Solo. “Please tell me I didn’t throw up or say something stupid.”

Solo sighs dramatically, “Now, you want me to lie to you, Gigi?”

“No!” Gianna’s eyes widen. “Was it bad?” She covers her mouth with a laugh.

“Doc was givin’ you fluids,” Solo starts and all Gianna can do is cringe. “You threw up over his shoes, said you was sorry, threw up again, then told us how much you love us for takin’ care of you.”

Gianna shrieks, laughing into her palm as she throws her head back. Solo follows suit in his laughter.

“You piece of shit, you should’ve kept all that to yourself.” Gianna shakes her head just as the door opens. “Hey, girl.” She greets Naomi who walks in cautiously.

Naomi grins, sashaying up to the bed, “girl I came in here earlier and you was out, dead to the world with this fool watchin’ over you.” She jokes as she takes a seat at the end of the bed. “How you feelin’?”

“Like a million bucks, apparently all I needed was some water and to empty out my fucking stomach.” Gianna rolls her eyes with a sigh. “Thank Jesus I didn’t have a match tonight or I would’ve killed myself.”

“Don’t say that, you know I hate that.” Solo rolls his eyes.

He was the sensitive type, not that he’d ever admit it. It’s what she adored most about him, since they were kids, he was very serious about statements like that and went to great lengths to always be there for Gianna. He never wanted to feel like he wasn’t communicating or was being purposely rude to anyone. Kindness was the biggest thing for him.

“I’m sorry,” Gianna reaches over to cup his chin. “I didn’t mean that.”

Naomi watches the pair for a moment, they way Solo instantly melts into a smile at the physical contact. The twinkle in his eyes when he watches her and how he falls into laughter when she says something stupid and it’s about the way he’s always talking in her direction, even when Naomi talks and he responds to her, his eyes always drifts towards Gianna to watch for her reaction.

This wasn’t new – Naomi and the twins often teased him about it, never in front of Gianna because he begged them to not make her uncomfortable, over the past couple of years but they’ve laid off the teasing because damn… they’ve known each other for years and have never made a move. But something about recently has made Naomi suspicious. Solo couldn’t seem to be away from Gianna for more than a single day. It’s the point that if she calls Gianna and she doesn’t answer, she knows to call Solo cause he’ll be with her.

“I gotta go get ready, but I’ll be back to get you later.” Solo stands from his chair, playfully throwing a pillow at Gianna as he walks towards the door. “See you Nao.”

“Bye, brother.” She calls out then turns her attention to Gianna. “Can I ask you something and you won’t be mad at me?” Naomi asks cautiously.

Gianna scrunches her nose, “and what exactly is this question?” She sits up in the bed. “And why would I be mad?”

Naomi sighs, “Why haven’t y’all dated?” She asks right out, catching Gianna off guard. “Y’all’ve known each other y’all whole lives.”

There’s a beat of silence while Gianna thinks about the question. She looks out at the wall. Strangely enough, it’s never been anything she’s sat and thought about. There was always someone she was in a relationship with. This is the first time she’s truly been single and the thought never crept in.

“I’ve never thought of him that way, honest, you know I broke up with whatshisname last year and we were together for six years. It’s always been purely platonic between me and Solo.”

For the rest of the night, the thought rings through Gianna’s head. Why hasn’t there been a romantic relationship between her and Solo? Now, she kinda wishes that it never came up because she’s not one that can hold her tongue and unfortunately, he knows her too well and will eventually read her face.

Gianna has to force the thought to sit in the furthest spot in her brain, it wasn’t something she had the time to worry about, and she’d been a little upset with Naomi for bringing it up. Even weeks later, there’s an air of awkwardness and she’s not sure why it’s there.

The hallway is empty as Gianna rolls her suitcase.

“Gianna,” Naomi’s voice calls out from behind her. Gianna stops reluctantly and turns. “G, you mad at me?”

They both continue their walk towards the locker room. Gianna sighs and shakes her head.

“No, I’m sorry girl, you know how I get sometimes.” Ginna apologizes, “I got uncomfortable with the thought and haven’t been able to face you.”

Naomi nods slowly, “I ain’t mean it like that, I was just askin’.”

“I know, it’s dumb, but he’s my best friend and funny enough when we left high school, I think we both left those thoughts in San Francisco. So, for the past thirteen years we’ve gotten into this perfect groove and yeah…”

When they walk into the locker room, it’s empty and almost eerily silent and it makes Naomi’s next question land in the center of the room like a pin drop.

“Do you think the reason you reacted like that was because you do like him and have liked him all the years?”

Gianna sets her bag down and turns to Naomi. She squints her eyes in disbelief.

“No, I don’t think that’s the case.” She answers bluntly. “And quite frankly, I really want you to leave this alone, Trinity.”

The atmosphere in the room turns uncomfortably cold as the pair stare at each other – it’s almost a stand down as neither one of them say a word. Naomi shakes her head, refusing to let the conversation go. Gianna rolls her eyes, retreating from the room before she has to hear anything else about it, but her friend is on her tail.

“Gianna, be serious.”

Gianna groans, “No, you be serious and drop it.” She grits through her teeth. Down the hallway, she spots Jimmy and Tama in the middle of a conversation. “Jimmy, Tama.”

Something or someone has to get Naomi off of her back and she’s hoping that her husband can help as the men turn to look at her.

“Hey G, what’s up?” Tama smiles, pulling her closer and resting an arm over her shoulder. “Why you look like you about to kill someone.”

“Cause, I’m ‘bout to kill your wife if she don’t leave me the hell alone.” Gianna points to Jimmy.

The men glances at each other before they look between either women. “What the hell goin’ on?” Jimmy asks.

Silence. Naomi raises an eyebrow, waiting for Gianna to say it but she knows she won’t let the words pass her lips. Gianna stares up at the ceiling as she shakes her head, anger not being enough to describe how she feels. Tama shakes her softly, smiling when they make eye contact.

“Talk to us, baby.” Tama rubs her arm.

“Jimmy, you’ve know me since we were kids, please.” Gianna begs then turns to Naomi. “And girl, I love you but don’t make me hate you.”

With that, Gianna shakes out of Tama’s arms and marches down the hallway. There’s nowhere to go, but she refuses to stand with them any longer. That’s the problem of knowing people for so long, there’s no separation in their personal life. All she wants to do is to forget this conversation ever happened and hope that Solo never hears about it, but now Jimmy and Tama knows and soon enough Jey, Tonga, and Jacob will know. None of those men know how to keep a secret if you paid them a million dollars.

Gianna is lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t hear Solo call her name. He grabs her hand to stop her, scaring her in the process. She snaps her head in his direction, faking a smile when she realizes who it is then gives him and Roman a quick nod.

“Hey, you two.” Gianna runs her fingers through her hair suddenly very uncomfortable.

Roman sends Solo a look before poking Gianna’s shoulder, “What’s up with you, G?”

It’s awkward for a moment as she tries to discreetly place some space between her and Solo, “nothin’, I’m just tired and tryna prep for my match tonight.”

“You ain’t look like this even with your mania match, for real, what’s going on?” Solo questions, closing the space between them.

Again, like said earlier, Gianna can’t hide a single emotion from Solo. Her face betrays her as if it doesn’t care what her brain says. She musters the best believable, fake smile she can and shakes her head.

“Y’all I’m good, I promise, can we talk later?”

How long is it appropriate to kinda ignore someone? There’s always been a need to place some distance between Gianna and the amazing Fatu/Anoa’i family before she lost her fucking mind. If she didn’t, she wasn’t sure her friendship with Solo would survive – and again, it’s the most important thing to them. She felt awkward and unlike herself. Naomi sort of took the hint to cool off, Gianna wasn’t sure if she came to that conclusion on her own or if Jimmy convinced her, but whatever it was, she was thankful.

Yet, ignoring people you’re on the same brand with came with making a lot of excuses – tired, training, media, family plans – whatever it was, she used it. Now, Solo wasn’t really accepting any more excuses, she can feel it. But Gianna needs a little more time to not feel so weird about everything.

After her match, Gianna strolls into catering, trying to figure out if she was actually hungry or if she was just anxious… or maybe she was both? She rubs her temple as she stares at a platter of cookies.

“You lookin’ for something sweet?”

Gianna turns to meet eyes with one Tama. She laughs softly with a nod.

“Yeah, tryna figure out if it’ll be worth cheating on my diet.” She stares at the cookies with a sigh. “If you eat one, I’ll eat two.” Gianna propositions him with a laugh.

Tama thinks about it for a second then shugs, “fuck it, let’s do it.” he laughs as they grab their cookies. “Can I ask you something?”

“Uh oh, that’s scary.” Gianna jokes as they walk out of catering. “Should I be scared of this question?”

The taller man lets out a loud laugh that makes her smile, “Nah, you ain’t gotta be scared, baby.” He waits for her to nod before he continues. “Let me take you out?”

Gianna stops to stare at him, “and why do you wanna take me out?”

Tama groans at the same question he’s gotten every time he asks her out. Unfortunately for him, Gianna always gave him the same response. He wraps an arm around her shoulder while continuing their walk.

“You play too much, G,”

Sunlight pours into Gianna’s living room as she lays sprawled on her couch, eyes transfixed on her TV. She could have said yes to Tama’s date, but her one weekend home in over a month… she needs to spend that at home for her sanity. The comfort of her couch and her puppy makes everything manageable.

The doorbell ringing doesn’t bother her puppy nor when she slips off the couch to peek into the peephole. Gianna bites her lip when she sees Solo on the other side, hands in pocket, almost expressionless. She shuts her eyes for a moment before she unlocks the door to come face-to-face with the man she’s barely spoken to in weeks.

“Hey,” Gianna smiles, pushing the door wider for him to come in. “I didn’t know you were comin’ over.”

Solo smiles then his brows furrow in confusion, “When have we ever called before showin’ up at each other’s house?” He watches her shut the door in silence. “What’s up with you, Gianna?”

They sit on the couch, Solo pets the puppy he hasn’t seen in a while, giving Gianna the chance to come up with whatever she needed to say. She’s never felt this anxious in her entire life and she wishes this wasn’t happening right now – why couldn’t she act normal about this? She knew what her feelings were and she thinks she knows what Solo’s feelings are, so why does she feel like she could go skydiving without a parachute?

“Gia,” Solo says. The only person in the world she allows to use that awful nickname. “Talk.”

“Naomi, a couple of weeks ago, was basically pressurin’ me about you and I’s relationship and why we’ve never dated. She wouldn’t let up on it no matter how many times I told her it wasn’t somethin’ you and I were interested in, and it just made me feel all awkward cause now I’m thinkin’ how many other people have the same idea as her and if maybe you was thinkin’ about us some type of way.” Gianna word vomits the entire sentence in one breath as she watches his reactions. When he doesn’t say anything she sighs. “Are you thinkin’ about us in another type of way, Solo?”

Solo runs his hand over his beard, “I’ve told them all not to do this shit over and over again, I don’t know why Naomi would do that, but Nah, G. You my best friend and it’s always been that since we was kids and it not gone change now.” He confirms. “I don’t like how you felt like you had to ignore me instead of just comin’ to talk to me about it.

Gianna swallows. There’s something in the pit of her stomach that doesn’t disappear after his answer, actually, it gets worse and she feels like she’s about to be sick, but sucks it up for the moment, mauling over his most recent statement.

“I didn’t know how you’d react, and I’m sorry, I just started feelin’ awkward and anxious, so I just took a step back.” She smiles softly. “I know how you are and I should’ve just went to you and told you.”

Solo finally cracks a smile. He walks up to Gianna, helping her up then envelops her in a bear hug. With their hearts pressed together, Gianna blinks away the sad tears brimming the corner of her eyes. She stares at the door, feeling nothing but… misery? On the opposite end, Solo shuts his eyes tightly with the exact same fucking feelings.

“Listen, man, you ain’t listen, G.” Tama throws himself back in his seat in anger making her laugh. “Oh, you think this shit is funny?”

Gianna tries to hold in her laugh, “Tama, I love you, but baby you can’t do no fucking coup de grace.”

Tama finds himself beyond words in their argument on whether or not he’d be able to steal Finn Balor’s finisher. On a Tuesday night, this was the best they had to do as they sat in the backyard of Jimmy and Naomi’s place, liquor in hand, and no expectations for the next day. Tama sucks his teeth, turning to look at Jey as he walked out on the patio.

“Man, tell this girl I can do Finn’s shit.”

Jey looks at the older man then lets out a holler, “Uce, you can’t do no fuckin’ coup de grace.”

With a shit eating grin, Gianna raises her glass then takes a sip, “I’ve said that for the past hour, thank you, my brother.”

She sticks her tongue out at him when he places a greeting kiss on her cheek and takes the seat next to her.

“Mr. Monday Nights, I feel like I never see you anymore.” Gianna sits up, crossing her legs. “How’s it goin’ over there? I been seein’ you and rhea.”

“Man, we chillin’, I’m just vibin’ with everything right now.” Jey grins. “When you comin’ back to the winnin’ brand?”

Gianna scoffs playfully, “I’m already on the winning brand, if anything, we might need you back.”

Jey shakes his head with a grin. He loks down at his glass for a moment then meets eyes with Gianna, “I miss travellin’ with y’all, but this is somethin’ good, you know?” He shrugs. “I know you missin’ me.”

“Of course I miss you,” Gianna stands and moves over to sit on his lap. “These dudes get on my last fucking nerve.”

Tama scoffs, “what I do to you, G?”

She rolls her eyes with a smile, “Nothin’, Tama, you ain’t do nothin’ to me.” Gianna says sarcastically before tipping the rest of her drink into her mouth.

“The girl crushin’ on me and doesn’t know how to say it.” Tama mocks with Jey.

“Oh yeah? So that means she got over her crush on me?” Jey raises his eyebrow.

They turn their attention to her as she slowly brings her glass down with wide eyes. Gianna’s mouth widen with a smile, trying to come up with a quick comeback.

“Oh, y’all playin’ tonight.” Gianna sputters.

Tama sucks his teeth, “you a horrible liar, G.” He shakes his head while Jey hums in agreement.

“And what did I lie about?” She challenges while she stands from Jey’s lap to retake her seat between them.

“Forget us,” Jey speaks up. “But when you say you don’t like my brother, we can see it on your face.”

In the silence of the patio, Gianna leans back in her seat. She should’ve known that this conversation would never truly end – it was inevitable. Jey and Tama share looks as they wait for her to say something. Tama scoots his chair closer to hers.

“Tell me somethin’ G,” Tama starts while Jey watches. “If you don’t like Solo, let me take you out tomorrow?”

Gianna smiles, “Oh, so you’re not worried about family, you just want me.” She raises an eyebrow. “Is that what this is?”

Tama chuckles then shrugs. “I mean, I don’t understand how they all known you all this time and haven’t taken you out.”

With his statement, Gianna turns to Jey and raises an eyebrow. Jey chuckles and runs his hand over his beard. “I don’t know, baby, you like family at this point. We can’t cross that line.”

“It’s okay, young me wanted you before I knew how annoying you are.” Gianna jokes as she places a hand on his cheek. “It’s all love though.”

Jey swats her hand away while they laugh. The door to the patio opens and catches their attention. Solo steps out, coming to join them on the lawn chairs. He sits beside Tama.

“What’s goin’ on, people?” He greets, clocking the way the guys are all sitting so close to Gianna. “I can hear y’all laughin’ from inside.”

“Nothin’ man, I’m tryna get G over here to go out with me tomorrow.” Tama looks into Gianna’s eyes as he says it making her laugh. “But she think I’m playin’ with her.” He jokes.

Thankfully the trio is both distracted and drunk or they would’ve seen the way Solo was burning a hole through Tama after his sentence. The way his grip tightens around his beer could shatter the glass. Solo rolls his head before producing a fake smile just as Gianna looks in his direction.

“They’re drunk as shit.” She lets out her own drunk giggle. Gianna studies Solo for a second then stands, holding a hand out for him to take. “Can we go talk?”

After their conversation at her house not too long ago, things went back to normal. But there are still times when Gianna catches him deep in his own thoughts when they’re together. There’s just a slight difference in their relationship now that isn’t noticeable on certain days, but she can see it now, even though her drunken haze.

It’s quieter at the front of the house, so Gianna and Solo rest on the hood of his car. She messes with the seam of her skirt as they sit in some silence. It’s as if they don’t know what to say to each other and it’s killing them.

“What are you thinkin’ about, sweet?” Gianna finally asks as she turns her head towards him.

Solo slowly shakes his head, “I ain’t know Tama had a thing for you.”

“I don’t think that the case, I think he just likes getting under my skin.”

Gianna shrugs. They sit in silence again for a moment then Solo nods.

“Let him take you out.”

What? Gianna wasn’t sure she heard what he said correctly. Never in their lives has he ever pushed her towards going out with someone, especially not family. Solo turns to look at her shocked and confused face. For a moment, his eyebrows furrow in confusion at her confused look, but then he nods.

“That’s not somethin’ you want, G?” Solo asks. “might as well, you know, you been single a while now.”

Gianna opens her mouth and closes it several times, “I don’t understand you, Solo, why would you tell me to go out with him?” Now she’s slightly irritated. “What the fuck?”

Solo holds his hands up in question, “I’m just sayin’, if you want to you should. Who you waitin’ on? Me? Man, go out with Jey too if you wanna, fuck ‘em if you wanna.”

That makes Gianna push off the car. She turns to look at him with pure anger, “If I wanted to I would’ve, but again, what I’m tryna understand is what the fuck are you saying to me?” She can’t explain the feelings in her body as she yells at him. “I don’t understand this anymore.” Gianna motions between them.

“And what is this?” Solo stands up straight.

“Our friendship?” She scoffs at his question. “You know what, Solo, I’m over this and I’m over you right now.”

Just as she finishes her statement, Jey and Tama walk out from the backyard. Solo glances in their direction then looks at Gianna.

“Aye, one of y’all can take Gianna home now.” He says cooly.

Gianna licks her bottom lip, “Wow, just like that?”

“You said you done, G.” Solo shrugs without a trace of humor. “So, be done and don’t worry about me.”

“Fuck you,” She spits, shoving him away from her. The tears hit her cheek before she can realize she even wanted to cry. “Cause I never would’ve said that shit to you in a million years but you think that’s fuckin’ cool to say to me then kick me out? You're a bitch.”

Gianna wipes her tears as she walks away from him. She stops in front of Jey and he immediately wraps an arm around her shoulders. He sends a confused look to Tama who in turns sends daggers at Solo.

The ride home is quiet. Jey had the unfortunate task of taking her home as Tama stayed behind, completely plastered. She sits in the passenger seat and stares out the window. It was a horrible way to end the night and she didn’t even understand where the hell it went wrong. All Gianna can think about is how her best friend essentially called her a slut because of a joke that’s been ongoing for the past year. This attitude wasn’t anything she’s ever seen from him before.

It broke her heart to think that he saw her in that light. She was never that person. He knew that, so why say it even if he was upset at her for whatever reason?

“What’s goin’ on with y’all?” Jey asks.

“I don’t know,” Gianna says through shallow breaths. “He basically called me a slut then told me to leave, not much explanation there?”

Jey glances at her shocked, “Uce said what?” He shakes his head. “I need to talk to him. Why he say that?”

Gianna rubs her temple, “Jey, he said I should sleep with Tama or sleep with you. I wish I fuck knew where he got the idea that I wanted that, but he’s convinced I do.”

By the time they make it to her house, Gianna’s panic attack is soothed. She gathers her heels and purse and looks at Jey. He gives her a sympathetic look then quickly gets out the car to open the door for her. They walk up to her door slowly and he waits as she looks for her keys then unlocks the front door.

“Thank you for bringin’ me home, and please just leave this whole thing alone. I really do think your brother and I just need some separation for a little while. I think we’ve been in each other’s faces for too many years and it’s just a phase.”

It was a wish that Solo would come to the conclusion on his own that what he said was wrong. Hopefully the separation would create some clarity for them both. Jey nods in understanding and pulls her into a tight hug.

“I got you, mama, you know that.” He murmurs into her ears. “And, how about we give him something to be mad about?” She can hear the smirk in his voice.

Gianna moves back to meet his eyes, “What do you mean by that?” She searches his eyes then breaks out into the biggest grin he’d ever seen. “Oh my God, are you gonna kiss me? Please tell me you are so I can prepare young me.”

Jey laughs brightly and nods. Gianna throws her stuff into the house, turns back to him, and watches as he leans into her. He presses the soft kiss on her lip, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer to his body. When they pull apart, Gianna covers her mouth in shock.

“You’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had in this life, thank you for that.” Gianna kisses his cheek.

“You know I got you, G, goodnight.”

As he walks back to the car, Gianna stands in her doorway. She laughs to herself at the fact that she got to kiss her first ever crush, even though it wasn’t in the most romantic way. She waves as Jey pulls of and closes the door to the dark house. The kiss was amazing, but it wasn’t something either of them were ever going to pursue, it was a way to make her feel better.

Why does she feel like shit about the events earlier in the night? She didn’t do anything wrong but here she was wondering if she should text Solo first.

There are rare instances that Gianna and Solo fought. It was rare. For them to find themselves at odds, it’d have to be serious. Their first ever fight was in elementary school when Gianna decided to sit next to another kid for an entire week. Solo proceeded to throw paper balls at her for the week until she sat next to him again. Then, in middle school, Solo thought it’d be the bright idea to date Gianna’s nemesis. They spent half of their seventh grade year at odds. High school was probably their biggest fight. For years they couldn’t come up with the reason as to why the fight started, but Gianna remembers that she started talking to some guy on the football team whose name she can’t even remember anymore.

It was her thought that Solo would be okay with it, he knew about it, and didn’t say anything. Her relationship with the guy was fine, until it wasn’t. A rumor started that her and Solo liked each other. It wasn’t true and no matter how many times she explained it to her boyfriend, he just seemed to hear something different. The real kicker came when she found out that Solo was making stuff up and telling other players, who of course shared it to other players until the entire team was talking about it. The fight started when Gianna showed up on his porch. He denied it, even though they both knew he was doing it. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why he’d sabotage her relationship. He said it was because he didn’t trust the guy.

No correlation, he was right, her boyfriend was a piece of shit who was cheating on her, but that wasn’t the point. It took them until the following summer to make up.

There’ve been several more fights post high school. All of them revolved around her relationships. Either the guy was too nice, too douchey, or just was plain boring. No one ever seemed to be quite right. Yet, everything before paled in comparison to this one.

No contact is what they’ve been for the past three weeks. He avoids her when they travel, they don’t text, they don’t call. Gianna’s sick and tired of this shitty ass attitude he’s had towards her and refuses to be the one that fixes it. So, she’s letting it run its course, if it ever does. Hopefully it does or it’ll ruin the next few days.

“Hey girlie,” Naomi smiles, wrapping her arm around Gianna as she sets her carry on down.

Gianna scrunches her nose, “Hey baby doll, you look cute.” She scans Naomi’s outfit for the flight. “Your ass is actually insane, bro, how Jimmy handle all that?”

Naomi laughs as they find a spot to sit, “Girl bye,” she waves her off. “Did you bring your best outfits?”

“Oh, of course, I plan on being the best dressed.”

Once a year, for the past ten years, they all take a big vacation to relax. Naomi and Gianna were the ones to convince everyone and it’s become habit. This year, they decided on Puerto Rico because they loved it so much when they all went for Backlash. It was probably one of their easiest ones to pick – usually it’s a big group argument about where to go, and this years they’ve invited three new, annoying people in Tama, Tonga, and Jacob.

“Where are the brothers?” Gianna quickly glances around.

“They went to get somethin’ to eat, you know how they are.” She rolls her eyes then clears her throat. “You and lil man talkin’ again?”

Gianna chuckles at the nickname but shakes her head, “No, I think we just need some more time.”

And unfortunately, the three hour flight had Solo and Gianna sitting besides each other. They both bought their tickets months ago and it was awkward. Neither of them had the idea to switch seats, but both had their headphones on, acting as if the other wasn’t there. Gianna’s eyes rarely stray from the window out of fear of making eye contact with him.

Hours flew by from the plane ride, to the awkward waiting for their car, and the hour drive to the rented villa. Gianna wants to run and hide and take the ride with Tama and Tonga and Jacob, but Naomi wasn’t having it, so she found herself squished beside her in the quietest car ride.

Sunset shines off everyone’s sunglasses when they finally get to the house. Gianna flicks her hair over her shoulder as she grabs her suitcase from the driver with a small smile.

“G, you sleepin’ with me?” Tama yells out.

Their car pulls in with him hanging out the window. Gianna laughs as she turns to see them. Tama leaves the guys behind to wrap his arms around her.

“I can’t share with you,” Gianna laughs against his chest.

Tama raises an eyebrow, “cause you can’t keep your hands to yourself when it comes to me?”

Gianna pushes him away but he doesn’t move, “no, cause you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” she smiles, glancing at his hand that’s at the top of her ass. “like right now.”

“I can’t help myself when it comes to you, G.”

His eyes never leave hers as he talks and Gianna finds herself, for the first time, completely lost in the thought of his words. She hums softly and looks around at everyone making their way towards the front door.

“Fine, we can share, but you have to promise to keep your dick in your pants.” She stares up at him. “Unless, I say otherwise.” Her voice dips as a glint sparkles in his eyes.

The house is absolutely insane. Once everyone claims their rooms: Jimmy and Naomi in one, Gianna and Tama in one, then everyone gets their own with a single room left empty, they meet in the kitchen to eat before getting started.

“Where’s Roman? I thought he was traveling with you guys?” Naomi points to Tonga.

Tonga sips his water, “He should be here later tonight.”

“Who invited you?” Gianna points to Jacob who’s pulling out his cigarettes.

Jacob throws a wrapper in her direction making her laugh, “Didn’t you ask me, Gigi?”

Gianna gags at the nickname, “And I think I’m regrettin’ that now.”

“Oh Gigi,baby, you know you love me.” Jacob comes around the counter, wrapping his arm around her waist. She leans her head away with a groan. “Don’t act like that.”

Gianna folds under the pressure, giving into a smile and letting Jacob hug her. He’s the biggest teddy bear of the group and she can’t be mad at him for too long, even if she was only pretending.

“Man, y’all let’s eat.”

Most of them took a nap after they ate. Gianna sighs into her pillow when she feels Tama’s hand on her hip. She keeps her eyes closed, but slaps his hand away.

“Tama, stop playin’, I’m tired.”

Tama groans softly, moving closer to rest his chin on her arm, “I ain’t tired, G.”

Gianna opens her eyes and looks over at him. She searches his eyes for a while before shifting down to see his shirtless torso and it’s a fight to bring her eyes back to his.

“You’re a horny fuck, do you know that?” she asks softly, laying on her back. “Why you stressin’ me, Tama, you haven’t let me breathe since we met.”

They met several years ago at an event. The twins introduced them and it’s been history ever since. He was the biggest flirt she’s ever met and she’s his primary victim. Once he joined the main roster, she hasn’t had a moment of peace.

“I can't let you pass me by, Gianna.” He leans up on the palm of his hand, hovering over her. “I want you.”

She shies under his gaze. His usually playful face is more serious than she’s ever seen. Gianna watches the way his other hand slowly moves the duvet from her body. Tama gets on his knees in front of her and pulls her up against him so they’re both kneeled in front of each other.

“We can’t be together,” Gianna whispers softly, feeling his hand on her back. “You know that.”

“I know that, G.”

Yet, the doesn’t stop either of them as their lips come together. Gianna sighs into his lips while Tama wraps his arm around her waist and pull her into his bare chest. The kiss starts to get frantic, neither one of them wants to pull away, it’s like life or death. Tama manuevers them back onto the mattress, but Gianna snaps out of his and pulls away.

“I need to cool off,” She rolls to the other side of the bed, trying to catch her breath while he lays besides her. “I’m gonna go get some water.”

Gianna gets to the bottom of the stairs, playing with her hair as she tries to find a light switch in the darkness. She finally turns one on then looks for the glasses to get a drink of water. She’s barely down a sip when she hears a knock on the door. Gianna hesitates for a minute, looking down at the oversized judgment day shirt she was wearing with nothing else.

She walks over cautiously and peeks towards the glass door but calms when she sees the familiar, friendly face. Gianna cheers as she runs towards the door.

“Ro, you’re here,” she throws the door open. “How was your flight?”

Roman takes a deep breath as he shuffles in, “exhausting, but hey G.”

She chuckles, giving him a quick hug, then takes him over to his room that’s on the main floor near Jimmy and Naomi. Roman drops down on the bed with a huff as she stands in the doorway.

“Excited to not think about work for the next three days?”

“Very,” He peeks at her. “You upstairs?”

Gianna nods, “Yeah, i’m sharing with Tama.”

That catches Roman’s attention and he sits up, “Huh�� Why’s that?”

For a moment she thinks about it, suddenly very cautious and aware that she just made out with him.

“I dunno, he asked so I said yes.” She speaks slowly.

“Well, if you need an escape from that fool, you got a space down here.”

With a smile, Gianna blows him a kiss, “I appreciate that, Ro, I’ll let you shower.”

Back in the living room, Tonga and Jacob were sitting on the couch in their own conversation. Jacob whistles when he sees her. Gianna rolls her eyes and goes around to sit across from them on the couch.

“I thought y’all were passed out,” She crosses her legs.

Jacob groans, “Man, this fool woke me up talkin’ ‘bout it’s time to drink.”

Gianna laughs and leans her head back against the arm of the couch to stair at the ceiling, “I’m down with Tonga, where’s everyone else?”

“Jim took Naomi and Solo to the store.” Tonga says as he watches the way Gianna absentmindedly taps her exposed thigh. “Tama ain’t botherin’ you, is he?”

“Nah, he’s not botherin’ me.” Gianna meets his eyes. “Not yet at least.”

For a little while, the trio sit in a meaningless conversation about backstage at Smackdown. Tama joins them not long after, taking a seat beside Gianna, stealing glances at her when she’s talking. Their conversations halts when the door opens and a loud cheer comes from Jimmy.

“Good, all your asses awake now.” He calls out as she comes into the living room with the bags.

Gianna gets on her knees on the couch, facing him, “so, what’s in the bags?” She smiles hopefully.

“You wondering if I got your stuff?” He raises an eyebrow. Jimmy shuffles through the bag before he pulls out a bottle of 1942 Tequila. “You know I got you, sis.”

With a dramatic sigh, Gianna grabs the bottle and kisses it before she sends Jimmy an air kiss. She peers back to catch a look from Tonga. He smirks and leans in towards Jacob to whisper something to him. Jacob chuckles and peers over at her.

They don’t look away when she keeps her focus on them. So, Gianna shakes her ass in their direction. Tama whistles and grabs her by the waist, pulling her t-shirt down.

“Nah, this all me.” He points to Tama and Jacob.

Solo and Noami come out from the kitchen and she claps her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“You two, c’mon, y’all been nappin’ too long.” Naomi points to Tonga and Tama. “G, give me the bottle.” She holds out her hand and Gianna sadly gives it back.

Gianna sighs back into her seat with a pout making Jacob laugh. She turns to look back at Solo then quickly turns around when they make eye contact. Her heart falls and she drops her head down to stare at her legs. Jacob looks up at Solo and widen his eyes then look at her. Solo, thankfully, gets the hint and clears his throat as he comes to sit beside Gianna.

“Can we go outside and talk, Gia?”

The nickname makes her look up. She nods slowly and follows him out to the backyard. There’s a pool and they’re overlooking the ocean as they sit on the lounge chairs across from each other.

A silence sits amongst them for a while as Gianna massages her scalp. Solo keeps his eyes on her while trying to come up with the first word to say. She finally looks at him and raises an eyebrow. For all the years they’ve known each other, if he fucked up, Gianna will sit in silence until he apologizes, and she’s good at that.

“Gianna, I was an ass to you and I’m sorry.” Solo finally talks. “I didn’t mean what I said and I never should’ve said it. You’re my best friend.”

Gianna swallows hard, “why’d basically call me a slut?”

Solo shakes his head and looks down in shame, “it’s dumb,” he says lowly. Gianna uses her foot to nudge his to continue. “I felt like you was pullin’ away from me, and then you was getting close with them and I just…”

“So you were jealous?” She nudges him again.

“I shouldn’t, cause you can hang with whoever you want, I don’t own you.” He meets her eyes. “I want us to go back to how we were, Gia, I love what we got and how we doin’ it.”

When he finishes, Gianna rubs her hands together, “I accept your apology, because you’re my best friend, and I know your heart.” She reaches out and grabs his hand. “If you ever imply that i’m a slut ever again, I’ll cut your dick off.”

They break into a smile then a fit of laughter as they stare at each other. Solo stands and pulls her into his arms in a bear hug. He lifts Gianna off the ground as she shriek, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I love you, Gia.” Solo sets back on the ground.

“Love you much more.” She caresses his cheek like the million of times she has before. “I’m happy we’re cool now.”

She turns first to walk away but feels his hand hold her in place.

“Also, I said it like an asshole, but really, Tama likes you.”

Gianna searches his eyes, for what, but she’s not sure what she’s expecting. Her stomach slightly drops but she sports a smile and a nod.

“Yeah, I know.”

Solo walks in first, leaving her outside, in the middle of her thoughts. Gianna watches him bounce around the room, obviously a weight off of his shoulder after their conversation. Yet, now she feels a million time heavier.

Tama peeks his head out the house. He sends a bright smile and steps out to stand with her. Gianna stares into his eyes, making a decision to let go of the one thing that’s been gnawing at her. She steps closer to him and holds onto his arms. Tama knows the look in her eyes and nods silently for a little bit.

“So, it’s a no for us?” He finally questions.

Gianna places a hand on his cheek, but then immediately moves it, “the opposite, actually, we can see how this goes.”

He squeezes her in a hug, but all Gianna can do is stare at Solo from inside the house. When they move eye contact, she holds it until he’s the first to look away.

Back inside, Gianna stealthily grabs the bottle of 1942 and hurries back into the living room. She jumps onto the couch just as Roman arrives. He glances down at her and chuckles.

“Who bought you Tequila?” He rests against the arm of the couch. Gianna shrugs, trying to mask her grin. “You know you get crazy off that Tequila, G, what we gettin’ into tonight?”

Gianna thinks for a moment, “i’m getting fucked up off this 1942, everything’s up.”

Roman claps his hands on her shoulder, “you do know you get really sentimental when you drunk? Save me a kiss when you go around kissing everyone.”

A laugh falls from Gianna’s mouth, “you’ll get the first kiss this time, promise.”

Drunk Gianna is fun Gianna. It’s her and a bottle of Tequila against the world. Instead of going out the first night, it was easier for them all to just eat, drink, and listen to music at the house. Gianna was about five shots deep, pouring Tequila into everyone’s mouth as it got later into the night.

They pulled the sliding doors all the way open, letting the music waft out poolside. Jimmy and Naomi were in the pool, lips stretched, Jey and Solo were going between the patio and the living room, Gianna sat on Tama’s lap in the living room with Roman and Jacob as they played 2K.

“G, baby, ain’t it time for your drunk kissin’?” Naomi called out from the pool.

“Yeah, I'll save yours for later.” Gianna sticks her tongue out. “Ro, you want another shot?”

“Pour it up,” He responds, his eyes not leaving the screen.

Gianna gets off Tama’s lap, takes a moment to steady herself then drops down beside Roman. She carefully leans his head back to pour the tequila into his mouth. They lock eyes as she does so. After his mouth is full, Gianna moves the bottle and lets him go, but neither of them look away.

“I'll come back for you later,” Gianna winks, using her finger to place his attention back onto the tv.

A sudden yell from the kitchen catches her attention. Gianna makes her way into the kitchen to see Tonga and Solo turn to look at her with their hands behind their backs. She rests against the counter to steady herself then takes a sip from her bottle.

“And what are y’all up to?” She raises an eyebrow.

Tonga glances at Solo before he lets out a sigh, “we unfortunately can’t tell you that, G.” A wicked smirk on his lips.

Gianna cocks her head to the side. She taps her nail on the counter before shrugging her shoulder. “That’s fine, you’ll come crawling to me later.” She winks while turning on her heels.

As she leaves the kitchen, Gianna smacks herself on her ass. She sighs softly in the living room. She leans over to whisper into Tama’s ear.

“Wanna go into the pool?”

Tama looks up, “you ain’t gotta ask me twice.”

Outside, Gianna finally sheds the oversized shirt she’s been wearing, leaving her in a bra and thong. Naomi whistles at the sight making Gianna blow her a kiss.

“c’mon, G.” Tama watches as she takes a swig of the 1942 then places the bottle at the edge of the pool.

After jumping into the pool, splashing the other couple, Gianna pulls Tama further down with her. She wraps her legs around him as they surface. Gianna closes her eyes as he twirls her around in the water. She closes her arms around his neck, pushing their bodies together.

Without a word, Gianna draws him into a kiss. Tama doesn’t miss a beat, falling into the rhythm. His arms tighten around her. All the noise, mostly coming from the other couple cheering them on, falls into the background as it becomes messier.

A drunk Gianna finally pulls away with a laugh, floating onto her back. She was too drunk to even process anything more than Naomi pulling her arm towards her.

“G, girl, I need to party like you.” Naomi laughs.

“Babe, my bottle of 1942 is off limits, sorry!” She shouts, swimming up towards the edge to grab the bottle. Gianna pours more Tequila into her mouth before stumbling out of the pool. “where’s everyone?”

She stumbles lightly into the living room. Gianna scans the room, only seeing Roman on the ground. She whistles to catch his attention.

“You comin’ in?” Gianna asks but he shakes his head. She walks over to him and drops down next to him. “More ‘42?”

Roman takes the bottle out of her hand and pours some of the liquor into his mouth, “you drippin’ water everywhere.” His voice is dark as he stares at her bare legs.

“Then grab me a towel.” She raises an eyebrow.

He gets up, pulling her alongside him into his room. Gianna sets her bottle on the dresser and runs her fingers through her wet hair, mentally cursing at the fact she’ll have to wash it later. Roman comes out of the bathroom with a towel, pausing to watch her.

Gianna meets him where he stands. She slides the towel out of his hand and wipes down her body. When all the water is dry, she tosses the towel on the ground and then turns her attention to Roman who's still silent. She steps closer to him, messing with the hem of his shirt.

“You got me alone, in the dark, you not gonna take advantage of this moment?” Gianna murmurs when they gaze into each other's eyes. “Cause i’m waitin’ on you.”

Roman chuckles, “You don’t need no more tequila.”

She shrugs at the comment. Yet, even with that, he doesn’t move an inch, but instead, continues to watch her actions. Gianna gets on her tiptoes slowly, hands on his chest to keep herself steady. She doesn’t say anything, only stares into his eyes, until his eyes drift down onto her lips. Roman finally captures her lips with his, making her lose her breath.

In the pitch-black darkness of the room, Roman pins Gianna against the wall with his hands cupping her face. It catches her off guard at first, the sheer hunger in the kiss, the neediness, was unlike anything else — this is a new question she needs answered. Roman hikes her legs up around his waist, one hand firmly on her ass to keep her up.

“This what you wanted, G?” He growls in her ear, getting a moan in response. “I been watchin’ you with Tama all night, now you wanna be in my bed?” Roman continues, peppering kisses down her neck, sucking on a sensitive spot.

Gianna arches her back against the wall, “And so what? is that a problem for you?” she hits back, knowing there’d be a hickey in that spot he was still sucking on. “Are you tryna mark me?”

“I don’t need to mark you, baby, I can make you mine without all that.”

His mouth moves up to her lips again, taking her into a breathless kiss, “You’re so fucking cocky,” Gianna says in a breath before his lips is back on hers.

Breathing is harder every time Roman pulls away. Gianna’s head spins, but she’s never one to tap out. Her fingers slowly massage her raw and swollen lips while making note of how long he’s been holding her up. Roman swipes her fingers away to look at his handiwork, making her nervous under his strong gaze. He finally breaks a small smirk.

“Where you sleepin’ tonight?” He questions, but Gianna can tell it wasn’t a question.

“I actually have no plans on goin’ back out there.” She murmurs when being placed on her feet.

Roman nods. Gianna grabs the bottle of 1942 and sits on the edge of the bed. She downs the last of it and lays back on the bed. All she can do is let out a soft laugh when one random thought pops into her head: maybe she is a slut. But, honestly, who gives a fuck?

Life is more fun when you don’t give a fuck.

Gianna sits up slowly, “Are you just gonna sit there or should I go find someone else?”

“That’s a threat, G, you wanna threaten me?” Roman stalks up towards her. Gianna eyes the boner he has under his joggers then shrugs. “What you lookin’ at?” He smirks.

Feeling his soft touch on her skin, Gianna flips onto her stomach and looks back at him, “Please?” She rests her head on the mattress.

How could he say no when she asks so nicely. Roman trains his eyes on her as he drops his jogger, chuckling at her reaction. His hands slide up her legs before massaging her ass. Gianna's eyes flutter shut, even when he helps drop her up on her knees. His rough hands were weirdly soothing to her.

“Gianna, look at me,” His voice rough.

When she opens her eyes, a gasp escapes her lips as he pushes into her slowly. With her thong to the side, Gianna can feel every inch of him pressing into her. She clutches the bed sheets not finding enough air in her lungs.

“Fuck,” Gianna moans into the bed, feeling his hand on her stomach. “Roman, please.” She pleads at his achingly slow pace.

“I got you baby,”

With one swift buck of his hip, Roman fully pushes into her then pulls out, repeating those steps until there were tears of pleasure streaming down the side of her face. Gianna’s moans were breathy at his erratic movements.

Roman grunts softly, “talk to me, G, how you feelin’?” He leans to whisper in her ears.

“Just keep goin’, please, I need it.” Gianna begs, unable to think of anything beside the sensation pulsing through her body. “I need it.” She muffles a loud moan into the mattress.

Her legs, now shaking, couldn’t hold her up anymore. She was shaking so bad. Roman pulls out, chuckling at her groan, to turn her onto her stomach. He waits as Gianna pulls her thong off and throws it across the room. Roman pulls her towards the edge of the bed and plunges into her. Gianna’s back arches off the bed, wraps her legs around him, unwavering in their eye contact.

Ecstasy would be the only word to describe what’s pulsating through her body. She finds Roman’s arm, digging her fingernails into his skin to find some form of tension. Gianna’s eyes roll to the back of her head, a loud moan reverberating through the room as she came down from the high. She was barely breathing when he pulled out of her, cumming on her stomach.

There were no other words when Roman collapsed beside her. Gianna rolls towards him, resting her head on his chest. Before a minute passed, they were knocked out.

The sun in the room blinds Gianna when she finally opens her eyes. She moans softly, sitting up, but freezes in realization that she’s not in her own room. Beside her, Roman stirs.

“Oh, shit.” Gianna covers her mouth, glancing around to see her bra and thong alongside Roman’s clothes. “Oh… shit…”

Roman grunts as he opens his eyes. When he looks in her direction, his eyes widen. Gianna runs her hands through her hair not knowing how to start this conversation. That, and the fact, that she can’t get out of bed because she’s naked.

“G, baby, did we…” Roman sits up as she nods. “Oh, shit.”

Before anything else is said, Gianna bursts into a fit of laughter. She shakes her head at the scenario in front of them. Roman finally cracks a smile, running his hand down his face.

“Okay, I’m gonna get up and leave before anyone sees us.” Gianna slides out of the bed, finding her bra and Roman’s shirt. She turns to look at him before quietly exiting the room.

The living room, thankfully, is empty, but Jacob and Jey are passed out on the couch. Gianna tiptoes to the kitchen and starts the coffee. Anything can help with this hangover. When it is ready, she takes her coffee out by the pool. Her feet dangle as she thinks of the mess she’s put herself in now.

“There you are,” Naomi walks out in her bikini, taking a seat beside the younger woman. “You went missing last night.”

“I passed out in Roman’s bed, bless his heart.” Gianna smiles. “I need to lay off the Tequila sometimes.”

Naomi laughs, “Girl, I don’t think anyone here, beside me, can remember anything from last night.” She says then clears her throat. “So, how are things with you and Solo?”

Gianna sips her coffee slowly, “We’re good. He apologized and told me to get with Tama.”

“That’s good,”

For a long moment, neither one of them says anything. Gianna can only think about how she woke up in Roman’s bed. There’s no one she can confide in — as much as she loves Naomi, the information will eventually find itself being shared with Jimmy and it’ll make the rounds from there. She runs the risk of Solo and Tama finding out and that’s the last thing she wants.

“I’m gonna go shower the Tequila smell off of me, be back and we can swim?” Gianna starts to get up.

“I’ll be right here, G, I’ll save you a mimosa.”

Gianna winks as she enters the living room. Jey stirs on the couch, groaning loudly. She leans against the arm of the couch for a second.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty, coffee?”

Jey nods with his lopsided smile. “You’re my savior, G.” He scans her outfit then chuckles. “You don’t own pants?”

“Nope, but you can just say that my half naked body makes you horny.” She teases when he grabs the mug from her.

“Oh, that’s what you wanna hear?”

Gianna shrugs, lightly yawning with a stretch, purposely raising the shirt to give a glimpse of her ass. “Who knows, but you staring at my ass tells me more than anything else.” She winks.

“You play dirty,” Jey groans softly, leaning his head back.

“It’s the only way to play, Jey.”

Upstairs was quiet. Gianna found Tama asleep on bed, body horizontal. She slips into the shower and sighs under the warm water. Lost in her own thoughts, Gianna leans against the cool tiles, letting the water cascade down her body.

There are rarely moments that make Gianna stop and think. She’s always been the wild child, that’s what people love about her, the willingness to throw caution to the wind, party until the sun rises and not remember what happened the night before.

In her last relationship, she took precautions — too many precautions because her ex didn’t appreciate the wildness she brought along. Now, she’s not understanding why she’s acting out. Sleeping with Roman was never part of her plans, if anything, it almost concerns her. Yes, he’s the most attractive human on the planet, but it was never something she thought of.

The person she wants, she’s now realizing, doesn’t want her. Gianna is in love with her best friend, but he’s not in love with her. How was she supposed to deal with that?

Gianna doesn’t do well with unrequited love, it makes her crazy. It makes her act erratically. It’ll literally drive her insane.

“G, baby, that’s you?” Tama’s hoarse voice slices through the room. He opens the fogged shower door in nothing. “You doin’ okay?”

She looks at him for a moment then pulls him into the shower. Tama licks his lips as she presses him against the wall. Gianna runs his chest softly and slowly moves down until her hands wrap around his dick.

No, she’s not doing okay. But, when life gives you lemons: fuck.

one of my most hectic pieces of work. thanks for ignoring all my grammatical errors... i literally went to school for writing

but until next time... or until part two x

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